How The Light Gets In
by unicyclehippo
Summary: Gail is a lonely teenager in a new town and a new school who is sure she doesn't know the first thing about friendship. Holly is a disgustingly cheerful girl who doesn't mind teaching Gail a thing or two. There's laughter, bloody knuckles, and a kiss or two, sign language, and teenagers trying to grow up right.
1. Chapter 1

**How The Light Gets In: Chapter One**

**I don't own Rookie Blue. **

**I'm new to this fandom but I thought we could use some more stories. Please enjoy.**

_I wonder why I'm only happy when I'm looking forward to something, and why when something happens it's never as good as I have imagined it will be. I'd like to know whether I'm the only person in the world who feels this way._ —Hyland.

* * *

The new house was a far cry from hideous. It was actually really, really beautiful. Gail could admit that even though she wished that there were something about this place that would mirror the ugly way she felt about it. But the house wasn't it. It was elegant, the windows let in a lot of light, and her room at the top of the house suited her. Isolated. Windows that let in fragments of sun, warming her place on the bed. A bookcase. And the street? It was quiet and peaceful and lined with trees. Even the neighbours seemed nice.

She wished she hated it. But she couldn't because there was literally nothing to hate except the location. It wasn't the house's fault that she had been dragged halfway across the country. It wasn't the house's fault that she was starting in a new school with no friends and not even her big brother to help her out. It was her mothers and so all of her dislike would be aimed exactly where it always was. At her mother.

The woman in question heaved an impatient sigh. "Gail, I just don't understand why you are making this so difficult." They were standing in the mall. Stupid mall. It wasn't the mall Gail was used to, not the one she had hung out in with the gaggle of friends she had back home. "Please, just pick some new clothes."

"I don't need any clothes," she said quietly. She was happy with what she had at home, which made exactly zero sense to her mother because what she had was about five near identical outfits, none of which were dresses. The woman raised a hand to pinch the bridge of her nose. She stared at her daughter, trying somehow to make her understand with the force of her gaze what she was saying.

"You are starting at a new school. You _want_ to make a good first impression. And to make a good first impression you have to be?" She waited for a good minute, Gail blinking slowly at her, before answering her own question. "On top of the fashion, pleasant, and powerful. And a new outfit can help with all of that." Gail nodded obediently as Elaine not-so-subtly glanced at her watch. "Fine. I trust you to make your own decisions." Translation - make your own decisions and deal with your own consequences. "I have to get back to work. This has taken a lot longer than I scheduled it for. Just use the card I gave you and get yourself a few new outfits and whatever stationery you'll need for school. Okay?"

"Yes Mother," Gail intoned carefully, eyes fixed on a cracked floor tile. Elaine took in her daughter – hair newly platinum blonde, arm wrapped around her stomach, shoulders slightly hunched. She thought better of another lecture on posture and pressed her lips together. She didn't have the time.

"Alright. I'll see you at home." A quick touch to the shoulder, possibly affectionate, and then she was gone, back to work. What a surprise. Gail waited until she was out of sight before lugging a pile of clothes over to the register. Her mother would never approve – tight jeans, boots, sweaters – but the woman didn't have enough input in her life to really be a judge of anything.

The boy ringing up the purchase shot her a smile. Gail found her mind cataloguing him as she had been taught: late teens, reasonably attractive, muscular enough, long brown hair, brown eyes, a black tattoo on his left forearm possibly a bird, no piercings - sleaze. Recognition of 'sleaze' also made her aware of her surroundings, also as she had been taught. Bench between them. Lamp to the side that could be used as a weapon in dire straights. Several witnesses in store, more outside. She also noted the quick up and down glance that he gave her, lingering on her chest and thighs. Her eyes narrowed. "Is that all for today?" He leant forward. "I can give you my number."

"I can mace you in the eyes," she said in a quiet, conversational tone. He blanched and Gail smirked. "But I think we'll both be fine, don't you?" He dumbly handed her the bags. "Thanks."

It took Gail only four seconds to remember that her mother had driven them to the mall. So, despite bags weighing her down and a severe dislike of public transport that stemmed from an equally severe dislike of physical contact with strangers, Gail found her way home. It did end up being on public transport because there was no way she was walking fourteen blocks. Clutching her bags close and trying to ignore the woman next to her that smelt faintly of cabbage, Gail thought about how much she despised these moments. 'Learning moments' her mother liked to call them. At least she had money this time, unlike the last three surprise drops she and Steve had been forced to suffer through.

Then she had to get into the house. She knocked on the door for ten minutes before realising that she would have to break in – another test, uniquely Peck. Admittedly it was less of a test and more of a 'sorry we forget to give you a house key, we didn't really think about you at all when we planned this move'. Oh and a 'your father is far too busy to let you into the house, just let yourself in'. So Gail, still weighed down by her bags and trying not to attract undue attention from her neighbours, forced open the latch on the kitchen window and slid inside.

She hid herself in her room. Folded her clothes, read through some of her textbooks. She didn't go down for dinner, even when the garage door rolled up and a car door clicked shut and she could hear her mothers footsteps echoing through the house. Gail could hear the orders snapping from her mothers mouth endlessly, brief pauses as she hung up and then dialled another number. There was nothing to gain in going down and everything to lose. She stayed upstairs. And so it was very, very late before she acknowledged the rumbling in her stomach and crept down to the kitchen. She rummaged through the fridge for food. There wasn't a plate left for her in there. There wasn't any sign at all that her mother had come home or that her father had made anything. It was just one more big, fat sign that Gail was to fend for herself and she was going to get exactly zero helpful assistance from anyone.

'The world is big and dangerous, Gail, and you have to be able to look after yourself. You can't rely on anyone else to get you through.' Her mother's favourite words. And all they sounded like to her was an echoing 'you're alone. Again'.

* * *

Gail knew that she wasn't optimistic. She wasn't even pragmatic. She was a downright pessimist and it showed. It infuriated her mother to no end that her daughter – with so _much_ potential, she liked to lament – continuously failed to strive, continued to retreat into herself, and fell short of every target Elaine set for her. And all with abominable posture.

"Sit up straight," her mother told her a final time before they were called into the Principal's office. Gail's shoulders shot back and her chin came up. An uncomfortable grimace showed on her face for not even a full second before the customary blank expression settled again. "And be polite."

"I'm always polite to authority, Mother," Gail reminded her. And, silently, _even when they don't deserve it_.

The door opened to the office and Elaine, forceful, attention-grabbing Elaine, strode in. "Belinda!" Gail's mother greeted, moving forward with a warm smile and an outstretched hand. "So nice to see you again."

"Elaine, it's been too long." They shook hands happily and Gail waited somewhat awkwardly behind her mother. She took in her principal: late forties, broad shouldered, soft muscles, glasses, purple dress purple accessories, purple streak in her dark hair (not confirmed), friendly smile - nice. "And you must be Gail." The woman extended her hand and Gail shook it once, firmly.

"Yes ma'am," she said softly.

"Please, sit. Now, all of your transfer papers are in order and your units are all accounted for so there should be no problems at all. I just need to go over your schedule with you, we'll confirm everything, and then tomorrow when the semester starts, I'll assign someone to you to give you a tour before school and to help you around for the first couple of classes. How does that sound?" She peered over her glasses and Gail just nodded. "Alright then," she said cheerily, not the slightest bit daunted by silence apparently. "Have a look over this and tell me if anything's amiss."

She handed a slip to Gail – her classes, she realised after a moment – and turned to chat happily with Elaine. Gail's eyes flicked down the page. Advanced English, Mathematics, Biology, Chemistry, Advanced French, Arts, Social Studies, and Physical Education. She nodded and then paused as the sheet was taken from her hand.

"Oh no," she heard her mother saying. "She'll be taking Advanced Biology as well."

"Really?" Belinda glanced to Gail who offered a sliver of a smile. "Well alright then. Just give me a moment and I'll rearrange some things for you." Belinda distracted herself for a few minutes and Elaine tapped the sheet.

"Were you going to say anything about that?" she asked her daughter.

"I didn't think it was necessary."

"It is necessary that you excel in every aspect, Gail. I know that you can do it." She should have felt some warmth at that, Gail knew, but it just brought a rising dread. So far she had done well enough but what if she failed? What then? What kind of Peck would she be if she failed a class? Or dropped out of high school entirely? She entertained that thought for a moment and let the strange and dizzying satisfaction of the yelping, horrified mind-Elaine entertain her for the remainder of the session until Belinda beamed at her and handed her the new schedule.

"There we go!" she said, enthusiastic enough to both make Gail reluctantly like her and to give her the beginnings of a stomach ache. "Gail," she said, folding her hands on her desk and leaning in, smiling so wide that the corners of her eyes crinkled, "I just know that you'll love it here. And don't forget that we have some wonderful extra curricular activities available as well in sports, theatre, the newspaper and all kinds of clubs."

"Thank you so much, Belinda," her mother answered. "You've been a big help," and sternly steered Gail from the room after the goodbyes and thank you's were shared. "You will be signing up for something. What would you like to do?"

"Track," Gail answered instantly. It would appeal to her mother – she was all for fitness and running was a big part of her future profession anyway. And it appealed to her because there was absolutely no reason for any of her 'team mates' to talk to her, no communication necessary, and she would have two hours of blissful peace and quiet a week where all she would have to do is run around a track.

"Excellent choice," her mother said. "You should think about joining the French club as well and trying out your language skills." Gail nodded. "And it couldn't hurt to make some friends in the Editorial." Gail nodded again. Whatever she wanted.

**I hope you like this. I have a fairly firm idea of where I want to go with this but I haven't written anything out yet so updates will be infrequent. Also, I have exams coming up. This was mostly just to feel out if anyone wants to read this and whether I felt comfortable writing for this fandom. I love the characters so I think I will continue with this. Happy reading, Readers :)**


	2. Chapter 2

**How The Light Gets In: Chapter Two**

**I don't own Rookie Blue.**

**Wow the response to this was awesome…I'm shocked and thrilled in equal measure. But okay so you liked it and I love procrastinating my studying so here you go. Please enjoy. **

_I am the family faces; Flesh perishes, I live on projecting trait and trace through time to times anon, and leaping from place to place over oblivion. —_Hardy

* * *

He bounced as he walked. It was distracting. "I've been here since I started high school. My mom and I moved here about four years ago. Some people have been here longer but I guess Mrs Booth made me the tour guide because I like meeting new people, you know?" He laughed and Gail blinked.

He was enormous. Broad, strong. He should be intimidating with his short hair and muscles but his face was just…sunshine. He smiled _all the time_. And he seemed to be some kind of nervous babbler.

"Uh and these are the science labs. I think Biology – you take biology, right?" The huge boy turned back to her and she nodded. "Great, good." He looked so relieved that he got it right that Gail almost smiled at him. Almost. "Well, I'm pretty sure that Biology labs are at the back. I take Physics, which is basically maths," he said with a chuckle and a scratch to the back of his neck. "We don't really use the labs very often. But yeah, they're out the back." He rocked on his heels for a second. "Oh! And Mrs Booth said you signed up for track. Let me show you the field – it's pretty great."

He set off at a jog and Gail waited for a moment before following him at her normal glacial pace. It took him a little while to realise that she wasn't going to join him and he returned to her side, blushing. "Sorry. I get excited." He chattered until they were outside and he opened the door for her. "So the track runs around the field, see? And over there-"

"Chad," she said quietly, interrupting him.

"Uh, it's Chris actually."

She narrowed her eyes. "Fine. Chris then," as if she were being kind by using his name. "I can see the track from here. Was there anything else I needed to see?"

"Well…no. I guess not."

"Then why are you taking me there?"

He stopped. "Um, I thought you might like to see the football field. And we have a tennis court and a basketball court as well!"

"Swell," she said flatly. "I don't like football. Or tennis. Or basketball." She turned away and started walking back to the school.

"Oh. Okay. I'm on the team," he said, still cheerful, and he caught up to her easily thanks to his giant legs. "Football and basketball. Not tennis. Not that there's anything wrong with tennis, I just don't play. Dov plays tennis. He's kind of my best friend. Well, he _is_ my best friend but he's sort of my brother as well. Well, no, see he isn't my brother at all but it feels like he's my brother sometimes. You know?"

"I don't care."

"Right." That smile was still in place though and Gail thought, reluctantly, that they might as well be friends. "This is your locker," he pointed out. "320. Great number." He blushed after he said it and Gail caught him mouthing to himself angrily. 'Great number?' he looked to be chastising himself.

She turned slowly to face him and crossed her arms. "Okay BFG, relax. Let's get some things straight. First, I don't want to be here. Second, I'm not looking for a boyfriend. At all. So if you were thinking of trying to impress me, don't. Third, I don't like people but, since you seem to be more of a puppy human hybrid anyway, we might get along. Fourth, I like donuts and coffee." Chris frowned thoughtfully at her. "Go and get me some."

"Oh. Sure, a-alright." He started walking away but turned around before he could go too far. "Hey. Gail!"

She heaved a sigh and turned. "What?"

"I checked your schedule and we have the same lunch. You can sit with me and my friends if you want." He didn't wait for an answer, just set off at a sprint and, strangely, returned with two donuts and a coffee. Probably he intended one of the donuts to be for him but Gail took both with a glare and he shrugged. He showed her the classrooms she would be in, the cafeteria, and the library.

"I don't like sharing books. I don't know who else has touched them."

If he thought that was odd, he didn't show it. Instead, he just wrote down the name of the bookstore in town that supplied the school with the textbooks. "It has some other really cool books as well. They have a whole section on detective novels and it's decorated with"

"I don't like detective novels," she snapped. "Never mention them again."

"Okay." Chris eyed her a little oddly then but, again, let it slide.

She liked him.

* * *

Gail wanted to reiterate a point. She did _not_ appreciate having to leave her friends and start at a new school. But she would admit that there were worse people to have met on her first day. Chris was sweet and popular – no surprises there. Football star, good looking, and strangely sweet and polite. Dov, Chris's best friend, was a geek. He was thin, asthmatic, and liked trivia. He was fine. Chloe was Dov's girlfriend – she was fine until Gail realised that the girl was wide-eyed and bushy tailed to an extent that made her head pound.

"Gail! Hi!" The girl was an exclamation point and it hurt her ears. "Chris was just telling us about you! My name is Chloe Price!"

"Hey." Dov was calmer. Thank god. He jerked his chin up in a nod. "Dov. Dov Epstein."

"Gail," she bit out.

"So _Gail_," Chloe chirruped. "What brings you to our school?"

"Education."

"And did you like your classes? Chris said that you have Swarek as your PE instructor. He's pretty tough but he's also really funny so-"

"Please stop talking." Chloe fell silent, as did Chris and Dov who were talking quietly in the seats next to them. They didn't move or talk to one another and Gail sighed. "Fine. You can talk. But not to me."

"Cool." Chris laughed nervously. "Because I wanted to ask Dov…" Gail fixed him with a stare – a 'why are you still talking to me' stare – and he averted his eyes, locking them on his best friend. "Um, oh. Dov. Did you get the new Halo game?"

"Yes I did and let me tell you my friend– it is _exactly_ as amazing as the trailers made it out to be. The campaigns are sweet." He moved into a description of the new enemies and the new weaponry when suddenly he realised that ice blue eyes were fixed on him. "Can I help you, Gail?"

"You have the new game?" she asked.

"Uh yes, I do."

She nodded and chewed her salad thoughtfully. "I want to play."

Dov didn't say anything and Chris nudged him. "Chris and Chloe are coming over this afternoon. Do you…want to come as well?"

She continued eating for a long moment before shrugging. "Maybe." They were silent for a long moment, still staring at her, and she groaned. "Oh god _fine_ I will. Stop begging. It's gross and I don't like it." She jabbed forcefully at her salad and peeked up at Dov, who was grinning.

"Great. I'll text you my address later." So he could understand when she was joking… He could be a friend too. Maybe.

"Oh hey, Gail!" There was Chloe again. "We have the next class together. Do you want to sit with me?"

A slow blink was all the time she needed to make up her mind about that invitation. "No."

"Oh, do you know someone else in the class already? That's so cool. I think it's really great when you know someone in a new school because then you don't feel _quite_ as alone and it's a little easier to adjust. Like, they can show you where the best toilets are and where not to sit in class and which teachers will pick on you. It's very helpful."

"No."

Chloe cocked her head, confused. "No what?"

"I don't know anyone." _I just don't want to sit with you_ was the silent suffix to that statement and Chris and Dov heard it loud and clear. They frowned at Gail, who quickly remembered that she was the new kid here and Chloe, dear sweet annoying Chloe, was above her in this hierarchy.

Gail looked away for a moment, nervous. Her stomach abruptly felt like it was twisting and her lungs seized for a long second and it all felt uncannily like fear. She wasn't…the _best_ in social situations but she had been lucky enough to fall into this one where none of them – bar Chloe – were particularly horrendous. She didn't want to sit with her but she also didn't want to be alone and friendless, as much as she liked to give off the vibe that it was exactly what she wanted.

"Fine, Price, you can sit with me." She made sure to sigh. This didn't mean anything to her. _They_ didn't mean anything to her. But Chloe beamed at her – gross – and Gail glanced over at the boys to check and see if she had fixed this. Dov still looked a little put out but Chris's puppy features at least had returned to their smooth and smiley default.

Gail felt relief for all of three minutes before the bell rang and then Chloe had her hands on her arm – which were quickly shaken away with a 'don't touch me' – and there was a loud pronouncement of "this is going to be so much fun" and Gail had to wonder how much force she should use to beat herself into a coma.

* * *

She would never admit this but she stood outside the apartment for twelve minutes before knocking. It took Dov one minute and thirty-four seconds to open the door.

"Gail. Hey." Dov stood in the doorway to his house.

"Hey." He didn't look like he was going to move and Gail was already nervous enough to maybe puke so she didn't need that. "Look, I've been thinking and you're _kind of_ a nerd and I'm not sure that you playing Halo is going to be able to counter the sheer force of nerd so I should just go home." She fixed the strap of her bag, pulling it further up onto her shoulder, and turned on her heel.

"Really. We're playing multiplayer and I was thinking Slayer with infinite kills would be a good start." The door opened a little wider and he raised his brows. "We also have snacks." Gail froze. Snacks could potentially be the turning point for anything she did. She started inching back toward the now open and slightly more inviting door and he grinned, shifting away so she could enter. She stepped inside, over the threshold, and paused for a second but he was already walking away. Okay. So he didn't laugh at her or shove her out of the house or anything like that. Progress. Not that anyone had ever done that to her before but there was always a first time for everything and she was glad that this was not it.

He walked with her, gesturing widely at the various rooms. "Chris'll be here in about twenty minutes but Chloe is in the kitchen. You can get a drink or eat stuff that's in the fridge but I'll warn you, my parents are basically hippies so its all raw carrots and gross juices mostly. And no coffee." Gail's nose crinkled. "Chloe snuck in soda thought so…"

"I want top left," she said suddenly. Dov frowned.

"On the split screen? No way. I'm top left. My house, my game. My rules."

"I'm the guest," she countered. "I get top left."

"I'm bottom left!" Chloe called from the kitchen.

"I know, babe," Dov said, setting a controller aside. "I've set it up for you."

"Oh Dov, you're the best. And hey Gail!" She was still an exclamation point. God, Gail thought, it must be exhausting to be her. She had to check. Gail moved into the kitchen and dropped her bag on one of the dining room table chairs. She fixed Chloe with a stare.

"Don't you ever get tired of being all…_enthusiastic_?" she asked, a disapproving tilt to her mouth telling Chloe exactly what she thought about enthusiasm.

"Nope. I'm glad you could make it." Chloe beamed at her. Gross. "Did you want some soda?"

"Fine." Gail propped herself against the countertop, in the corner, blocked in on two sides by the bench. It made her feel better to have her back to something. Mostly so she knew that Chloe couldn't sneak up behind her.

"You know, I think we're going to be really great friends, Gail," Chloe said off-hand as she passed a glass to the blonde. Before Gail could open her mouth to say that she didn't like her, the girl cut her off. "And I get it, it sucks moving around and having to make new friends and you don't _want_ to make friends with anyone because it might feel like you're betraying people back home?" She raised her eyebrows and Gail stared flatly at her. "Okay well, you should just know that I think you're funny and, yeah, a little mean but I think you have a good heart."

"You've known me for six hours."

Chloe lent in and patted her gently on the arm. "I am a _very_ good judge in character."

Dov popped up behind his girlfriend and smiled at Gail, who was quickly becoming either claustrophobic or disgusted by the closeness the two of them shared. Perhaps an equal measure of both. "It's true. She really is. She understood me faster than anyone else ever has."

"That wouldn't be difficult, Epstein. It just means that everyone else in your life is really, _really_ slow," she scoffed.

Dov narrowed his eyes. "And you're _sure_ that Gail is nice," he asked Chloe, who beamed (_again_) and nodded. "Alright then. Here." He handed her a controller. "Top left." When Gail smirked and followed them into the living room, he shrugged. "You're a guest. I have to be nice."

Chloe, surprisingly enough, was destroying them by the time Chris arrived. She danced out of the room, a full seven kills ahead, to refill her drink and Dov and Gail made the silent, joint conclusion that they would find Chloe wherever she had hidden in the game and kill her each time she respawned. It was only fair. Gail turned to crow about a headshot when she caught sight of the boy and she paused, frowning. Dov saw her expression and his face tightened slightly.

"Hey," Chris mumbled.

"Hey."

"Is it okay if…" he trailed off but Dov was already nodding. Gail had the feeling they'd done this before.

"You know where my room is. Go ahead." Dov stared straight ahead at the television as Chris limped by and, uncomfortable and hugely out of her depth, Gail copied him. There was the faint sound of a door clicking shut and Dov let out a breath. "Hey, Gail," he said quietly. "You're new here but can you…" He fixed his eyes resolutely on the screen, mashing at his controller. "Don't mention that to Chris. Ever. Okay?"

"Fine," she said, as casually as she would make anything else seem. She had to because the bruises on Chris's jaw and his obvious limp made Gail's heart race and her hands shake, furious.

"No, Gail. _Never_ mention it." His jaw was set, determined, and Gail knew she had to make him understand that when she said 'fine' it meant…it meant a lot of things. Gail was casual, Gail didn't get into things, didn't get attached, Gail was happy to let things lie as they were. Gail didn't like that Chris was hurt. She didn't like that she was surprised like that and she didn't like that she couldn't do anything. But she couldn't and so she would do what she was told. So she turned to Dov and waited until he made eye contact and she nodded firmly. "Good. Thanks."

Chris did end up joining them on the couch. Gail relinquished her controller – the fourth was broken, as it happened – because she found equal enjoyment in taunting the others for their failures as she did taking advantage of their failings and shooting them. What followed was a nigh-blissful half hour in which Gail slowly relaxed into the couch, forgot that she was supposed to hate being here in a new town, and let these new people be good. Good people and good for her. It surprised her, a lot actually, that it was the first day and she was already spending time with them because she'd never been any good at making friends but she supposed when the alternative was an empty house to return to this was good. Great, even.

And then her phone had to ring.

Gail's face paled and she pulled her phone quickly out of her pocket. She stood and Dov paused the game, only starting it again when Gail shook her head and gestured for them to continue. She moved out into the kitchen, away from the sounds.

"Mother, what-"

"Where are you?" came the stern voice. "School let out over an hour ago."

"I'm at a friends house."

A pause. "A friends house? Gail, you don't have time for any of that nonsense. Make bonds, of course, but wasting time doing what? Playing games?" The sound effects to the game were quite loud. Gail wasn't surprised that her mother could hear them even through the phone. "You have to _focus_."

"I know."

"This is your senior year and you have to make the most of it. I talked to Principal Booth and I know that you've been given outlines for assessment in three of your classes already. Is that right?"

"Yes."

"But you aren't home or at the library."

Gail sucked in a breath and closed her eyes tight. "No."

Another pause, filled with all those unsaid things – disappointment, irritation, probably a spadeful of regret. "I expect you home within the hour, Gail, and planning for your assessment. You have a lot to work on, particularly with the internship I got you here at the station. I don't want to see you slacking, do you understand?"

"Yes Mother," Gail murmured. And that was it. Elaine hung up and Gail stared at her phone for a few seconds before she picked up her bag and made her way to the front door. She stopped and looked back, hearing the delightful sound of explosions and squabbling, and let herself out.

**Hey everyone. I wanted to set up a base for the story I'm hoping to get into. Holly may be in the next chapter or the one after. I hope this was okay, let me know. Happy reading, Readers :)**


	3. Chapter 3

**How The Light Gets In: Chapter Three**

**I don't own Rookie Blue**

**Please enjoy.**

_I divide my life into two parts. Not really a Before and After, more as if they are bookends, holding together flaccid years of empty musings, years of the late adolescent or twentysomething whose coat of adulthood simply does not fit. Wandering years I waste no time in recalling. - Winman_

* * *

Gail managed to avoid the Three Stooges for three full days, an impressive feat even by her mothers soaring high standards. That is, if she had known about it, which she didn't. But it was on the fourth day, as school came to a joyful close for the weekend, that Gail saw Chris barrelling down the corridor towards her and, since she had nowhere to go and he had spied her already, she just continued to do absolutely nothing inside her locker and waited for him.

She knew that she was about to take fire – for fleeing Dov's home, for not mentioning the fact that she was leaving at all…for tugging some stranger down into the seat next to her in each and every class that she shared with that preppy monstrosity called Chloe – and she resigned herself to it. Why not, right? She was already going out of her mind playing catch up at a new school and figuring out new ways to disappoint her mother. A mother who, you must keep in mind, was utterly consistent in the way that she sat Gail down every evening to talk about her future and how to improve. So what was one more round to a battered fighter?

Gail squared her shoulders and twisted a little in place to face Chris. "What's up, San Francisco?" she greeted. His forehead crinkled into a frown.

"I don't get it."

"San Francisco Giants. Because you're enormous." His eyes lit up in understanding. "It wasn't my best work," she admitted with a shrug. "Look, whatever you have to say to me can wait, Chad. I have very unimportant things to do elsewhere." She made sure to sigh and look around as if he were taking up precious time.

"I just want to know why you left Dov's the other day. We got worried but you were fine at school so…what? You just left?" Chris's eyes were consistently gentle but his tone and stance fluctuated between worried and wondering whether he should be angry with her.

"Yes, I just left. I had better things to do than watch you all be incredibly boring and lame."

His frown deepened and his eyes moved from her to the locker next to her and then down to the ground. "I have to know, Gail. I…I don't want to have ruined anything." Chris paused but Gail didn't say anything so he continued, soft and clearly upset. Nervous. "It doesn't happen very often, okay? And I get it, it was probably a surprise to see me coming in looking like that. No one wants to be friends with someone who dumps all their problems on them straight away, especially on their first day at a new school. It was too much and all at once. I get it."

Gail narrowed her eyes. "What are you talking about?" He shifted his feet awkwardly, an oddly endearing movement coming from a boy at six foot something, and gestured to his jaw weakly, still not making eye contact. She saw the fading bruise, taking in the still quite vibrant colours, and remembered him limping into Dov's house. Her fingers curled into fists when she realised what he must have been thinking, what he must have been doing tormenting himself with the idea that she had left because of _him_. "Chris," she said, "you can look as ugly as you want to. It doesn't bother me." He looked up at her and she wished instantly for two things. One, that she was capable of reaching out and saying exactly what she meant to say, something that would make him look less like a kicked puppy, something that would reassure him, something like the truth. And, conversely, she wished for once that she was more like her mother and better at showing no expression at al because she knew that she looked angry and sad and nervous for at least two seconds until she had her face under control. "Your snacks were subpar," she said finally.

"What?"

"Your snacks," Gail repeated. "Keep up. They were subpar and I saw no reason to stay in the fortress of geekville if the snacks I had been promised were subpar."

His expression slowly softened out as he ran her excuse through his mind. Slowly, Gail was relieved to see, he began to smile. "So it wasn't because of me?"

"My god, no. You had to have been the highlight of that afternoon," she admitted, leaning against her locker. But that sounded too nice so she followed it up with, "because if I had to listen to Dov praise Chloe for killing him one more time I was going to vomit on them as I murdered them," in a flat, matter-of-fact tone.

"Okay well next time you bring the snacks and I'll find some superglue so Dov and Chloe can't bother you," he laughed, nudging her shoulder. And _that_ was why, Gail realised, she should have just crushed him right at the beginning of this conversation and not been nice at all. She glared at her locker.

"No," was all she said to that before walking away down the now empty hall. Chris's long legs ate up any distance between them though and he settled easily in place next to her.

"No?" He shrugged. "Okay, not superglue. Earplugs for us?"

"No." She pushed out of the school and cast around for one of her parent's cars. It wasn't a surprise when she didn't see one. But it was that last little spark that Gail needed. "I'm not joining you again. Ever. I have unimportant stuff to do anywhere that you and your friends are not. Understand?"

She wouldn't look back at him as she walked away, down the stairs, but she did hear him thunder after her. "Why not?" he asked. "We don't have to play videogames if you don't want to. Dov and I have a bunch of movies. Not that I live there all the time." Gail stiffened at that, eyes closing against the sudden knowledge that he lived there a lot more than he should have to, and Chris hurried on. "And Chloe has like every television series ever so we could watch TV if you wanted to."

"_No_," she said again. But she didn't know quite why she was fighting so hard because she _liked_ Chris and Dov and to a much lesser extent Chloe and she _liked_ annoying her mother. As she was contemplating that, Chris took her gently by the shoulders and pulled her over to a bench. She sat and he straddled the beam, turning to her with big brown sad eyes that begged her to talk to him. Her lips flattened into a thin line. "I'm not allowed," she said, looking away. It didn't matter. It wasn't a big deal. "I have to study."

"Gail, we're only a couple of weeks into class. It's fine."

"It isn't fine, Diaz. I don't care if you want to do nothing with your time but I have to study. I have to work. There are certain expectations that come with being part of my family and my mother-" She cut herself off. She never mentioned her mother. Ever. "I can't hang out with you."

Chris didn't speak for a few moments but when he did, his words were deliberately chosen and comforting. "Okay. You have to study and you can't hang out after school. But Gail, you don't have to avoid us here at school, right?" She shrugged. "So don't. We miss you."

"We hung out once, Diaz."

"Twice. And I know but…you're, well, you're kind of a shock to the system, you know?" Gail glared at him. She did know that but he didn't have to _say_ it. "But in a good way! So losing you again was like another shock and, I don't know, the first one was better. With you," he explained clumsily. "Not without you." He ran a hand through his hair. "Like, the first one was kind of like bam! I'm here and then suddenly we had someone new, you know, but then the second one is like you're gone and then there's a space." He looked at her, desperate for her to cut him off please before he said something else stupid. "Look, just come sit with us at lunch and I'll explain everything to Dov and Chloe."

"Explain what?"

"That you left because the snacks sucked and that you won't hang out with us after school because we are nerds and you have very unimportant things to do elsewhere," he teased. Then his face grew serious and he nudged her shoulder gently. "I'll tell them whatever. Mind their own business. It's not like we're the only people with stuff, Gail. They'll understand." And stuff, she understood, meant everything from a bruised jaw, courtesy of a phantom figure Gail was yet to put a face to but would love to punch in when she did, to the control freak that was her mother.

So she nodded. "Fine. But you have to bring donuts."

"I'll bring you a box of donuts if you let Chloe sit with you in class again," he promised. "She's sad about it and the girl that you made sit with you is scared."

"What a wimp. Fine."

They sat together for a little longer, letting the conversation settle. Gail couldn't believe she'd been so honest with him and Chris was wondering what flavour donuts she liked best.

"Hey," he said. "About your study – are you all good for your classes? Do you need anything?"

"Just my science books. I'm going to that store you mentioned tomorrow to buy them."

He nodded, tapping a rhythm on the wood bench beneath him. "You'll want some company. The place is a bit intense. I would offer my services but I need to help my mom with some stuff and Dov and Chloe have plans. Maybe ask your mom or dad to go with you."

"Yeah no I'll be fine." She let her eyes roam over the street one last time but now, thirty minutes after school was finished, she was certain that no one was coming for her. "Later, Diaz."

"See you next week, Gail!" he said cheerily.

He left and she slung her bag up onto her shoulders, the straps digging heavily into the skin. She looked once last time for a car, checked her phone, but they weren't coming. So Gail began the walk home, bag heavy and alone.

* * *

Gail checked the address twice. Chris's handwriting wasn't the neatest she'd ever seen and she hoped she was at the right place. She didn't like to be embarrassed and walking into the wrong store would do that for her. And then store in front of her did _not_ look like a bookstore.

It was blue, vibrantly so, and big. Over the front door was a little sign that just read ENTER and there was absolutely nothing around to indicate an address or a shop name. The windows were empty of books – the one on the left had a mannequin in a velvet suit with a polka dot bowtie and the window on the right was covered in cardboard and newspaper, a few glinting pieces of glass still sitting beneath the frame.

"Hey. Can I help you?" A girl, maybe a year or two older than Gail, smiled at her. She was pushing her way into the shop but stopped to tilt her head at Gail, questioningly.

"No." And then, "Is this Duke's?"

"I thought you said I couldn't help you," the girl teased. She also grinned, flashing white teeth in an easy display of good social skills and happiness. It irked Gail.

When Gail began staring her down, the girl smirked, and Gail found herself looking over the other girl. She needed to catalogue her. She was tall, athletic, tan, clean, brunette, smiling, casual clothes, glasses, heavy bag, sharp chin, dirt on her shoes, relaxed stance. But the part of Gail's brain that usually supplied that over-arcing word to describe her target – sleazy, friendly, idiot, whatever it might be – was malfunctioning. Big time. So Gail just continued to stare at her.

"Oh-kay," the Girl said, clearly bemused. "Yes. This is Duke's. Did you want to buy something?"

"No," Gail bit out sarcastically. "I just like to ask what the name of stores are. I spent a thrilling hour outside Costco last weekend." The girl just smirked and Gail faltered. Her sarcasm usually garnered more of a reaction than that. "I'm looking for some books," she found herself saying.

"Books! Okay, cool, that's my area. Come on in. I'll show you around." She walked in and held the door open, waiting patiently for Gail who was still watching her with narrowed eyes. The blonde stepped inside and to the left as she had been taught. Wall to her back, eyes on her target. If the Girl noticed, she didn't say anything. She just smiled and strode right into the store. "Duke's is a bit of a mess right now – well, all of the time actually. Don't mind the window. Some dickhead broke it a couple of nights ago so we had to tape it up with plastic and cardboard." Gail lost her behind a cupboard and jogged to catch up, the words drifting back to her. "—bit of everything and it can be confusing if you don't know your way around. Over there," the Girl waved a hand, "is electronics. It doesn't open until ten because Vic runs that section and he gets hammered pretty much every night. He shows up late, you see? And over there," she pointed, "is hardware. Hans is in charge there. I know, I know, Hans what a cliché. He's actually like some Swedish lumberjack hardware god or something. Never mind, you'll meet him at some point probably. And over there,"

"Why are you saying all these words?" Gail interrupted, eyebrows pinched in confusion. She had never met anyone who had spoken for so long without seeming to breathe and to just…talk.

"Wow. Okay. No reason I guess." The Girl stopped at the edge of what appeared to be a labyrinth of bookshelves. "This is the bookstore. I'll be at the counter when you find what you need." True to her word, the Girl dumped her stuff on the counter and dropped into the seat behind it.

Gail wandered behind a bookshelf so that she could stare at her some more. She was pretty, if you liked that effortless beauty thing, and her voice was nice to listen to. And from the way she pulled out an enormous textbook and dove right in, she was a massive nerd as well. So why couldn't Gail get a read on her?

And _why_, Gail thought with horror, was she thinking this much about some stranger that she would never see again? She shoved her way forcefully out of her thoughts and started her search through the store.

It wasn't organised in a traditional sense. Or, to her horror, in any logical fashion.

"How am I supposed to find anything?" Gail yelled.

"Well, if you hadn't been a bitch I would have helped you," the Girl yelled back. After a second of shock, Gail grinned widely, glad that the Girl couldn't see her smile. "But you can always ask me nicely."

Gail thought for a moment and then retraced her steps so she was standing in front of the counter and, hence, the Girl. "Nerd," she said. "Help me find the science section." The Girl raised her eyebrows and leant back casually in her chair. Gail knew that look. It meant 'you can do better than that'. She rolled her eyes. "Please."

The girl snapped her chair forward and smiled at Gail brightly. So brightly that Gail almost missed the instructions dazed as she was. "Down that hall," she said, pointing, "and they're all on the left. I hope you have the name of the book you want because they're in alphabetical order."

"That's idiotic."

"Yep. Have fun." And then she returned to her book, pushing the glasses back up her nose.

Gail did find the books after only a few minutes but, with a quick look at her watch, decided to move further and further into this stupidly organised bookstore. She'd always liked them – the smell of books; the covers that shouldn't match but somehow made the most intriguing picture, with rows upon rows of blacks and blues and reds and whites in every size and colour; the silence broken here and there by a quiet cough or an 'excuse me' or, in a shop like this and so early in the morning, by nothing at all. Except Gail.

"What is _that_?" Gail said loudly, after a good twenty minutes of exploration. Footsteps indicated that the Girl had heard her.

"Oh that," the voice said from behind her shoulder. "It's our kids section." Gail turned and saw that the Girl was smirking at her. "Why, you want to go in? Play with the toys, sit on the beanbags?" she teased.

"Yes." Gail frowned. "Why is it a kids section?"

"Because normally the big kids and adults won't admit to wanting to play," the Girl said. "But hey, go right ahead. No one else is here and I'll let you know if someone comes so you can pretend you were never there."

Gail shrugged. "I don't care." She walked straight in and dropped down onto the most comfortable one after a careful examination of all of them and promptly wriggled and arranged everything so she was as comfortable as possible. And then, realising she was more or less in full view of the counter and by extension, the Girl, she folded her hands casually behind her head and stared.

"What are you doing?" she asked after some time.

"Reading." The Girl glanced over at Gail and tried not to react to the intense stare. It wasn't cruel, not by any stretch, but it was deliberate and she never seemed to blink so it was also unnerving. "It's a journal."

"Like a diary?"

"Um, no." There she went again, pushing her glasses up her nose. "It's a collection of journal articles about lots of stuff. The topic is decomposition so there are a bunch of articles on the effect of atmosphere and water and humidity and fragmentation—"

"Of a body?" Gail's nose scrunched up. "You're reading about how bodies that have been hacked apart decompose."

"And the rates of decomposition, yes." The Girl smiled.

"Oh gross." She cast her head back, taking a moment to look over the cutesy book covers there in the kids section. That was almost worse than talking about dead bodies. She heard a wrapper crackle and her head lolled around to look at the Girl again. "Are you_ eating_ while reading about decomposition?"

"Yes," was the calm reply. "Obviously." She waved the sandwich in the air.

"Oh _gross_."

"You said that already."

"Yeah, well, it bears repeating in this case."

"There are pictures too," the Girl teased and she laughed aloud when Gail made retching sounds. "Okay fine, there." She closed the book, moving it aside, and she munched on her sandwich as her eyes lingered on the bored blonde. She didn't understand why the girl – rude, at first, and then just odd – was still here. Not that she was complaining. It had been the most interesting day working in Duke's in a very, very long time. "Better?"

"Better? It's not about being better it's about the utterly gross fact that you were eating and looking at dead things." Gail pointed at the Girl. "You're very weird," she said calmly.

"You're very opinionated," the Girl retaliated, to which Gail just shrugged and made a vaguely agreeing sound. "So what's your name?"

"Why?"

"Well." She took a moment to bite her sandwich, chew, and swallow, using the time to put her thoughts in order. "You were kind of a sarcastic bitch this morning, then I helped you find your books anyway, I let you sit in the kids section for about half an hour _without_ teasing you I might add. And I need to know your name so I know who to avoid in the future." That made Gail smirk and she shrugged. What would be the harm?

"Gail."

"Gail," the Girl repeated, slowly, testing the name. She smiled brightly. "Well hello Gail. You do sound like a tempest, actually."

"What?"

"A tempest. A storm. Like gale? G-A-L-E?"

"Was that a pun?"

"Yes."

"Oh god." Gail threw her head back and closed her eyes tight. "You're a nerd as well," she lamented. "Fine. Tell me your name."

"It's Holly," she managed to say without laughing. "Nice to meet you, Gail."

"Of course it is." Gail stood, brushing down her jeans and sweater in case any kid germs had stuck to her. "Right well, _Holly_, I am leaving." She lugged her books over to the counter and dropped them down in front of her new…person. "And you are going to give me a discount because I stopped that horrible man from peeing in the back room where the crime novels are and I don't even _like_ crime novels."

"Yeah, you told me that." More like yelled it. She had accidentally wandered into the crime section, which was between science and religion for some reason, and shouted it at Holly, making her drop her book. "Wait - who tried to pee in the back?"

"Some drunk man. You were talking to that Vic person."

"Oh well yeah. I guess I will give you a discount then." Holly looked them over as she clicked on the computer to wake it up. "Oh, Biology?"

"Advanced," Gail nodded with a slightly more distinct frown, indicating her displeasure.

"Don't look so enthusiastic," Holly teased as she scanned the books. "Why are you taking it if you don't like it?" Gail opened her mouth to answer – my mother wants me to do my best in school, which means better than everyone else as well, my mother chose it, if I had a choice in anything I did it wouldn't be Biology – and realised exactly how close she had been to telling Holly things that she generally kept close to her chest. So she frowned instead and set her face to blank.

"Are you done?" she asked, gesturing to the books.

"Oh." Holly's smile faded at the abrupt change but nodded. "Yes. Card or cash?"

"Card." She swiped her card and entered her pin, scooping the books off the counter. Gail would never admit it but she did pause for a moment, hovering on that cusp of inside and outside the store, and she turned. The Girl was watching her intently but looked away hurriedly when Gail turned. It made her smirk. "Later, nerd."

* * *

She was almost late to the station. She had intended to be early but the store had been a surprise. It was warm and interesting and it had beanbags and Gail had to wonder how much of that warmth and interest had emanated from Holly. Holly, who looked at dead things and didn't mind a little bitchiness and had a ridiculously big smile and was a nerd. Gail was still thinking about her when she entered the station, and when she slipped into the changing room, and when she sat down at the plain desk allocated to her, and when her mother appeared in front of her.

"Hello Mother," she said softly. Then, jumping to her feet, "Mother! Hello," when she realised that her _Mother_ was standing in front of her.

"So wonderful you could join us, Intern Peck." Oh no. Elaine had a firm grip on her tone but Gail – and, presumably, everyone else – could hear that she was not impressed.

"An honour to be here, Superintendent Peck."

She felt her mothers eyes examining every inch of her, scrutinising, and fought against fidgeting. "Good. Intern Peck, these are Officers McNally and Nash. They are on desk today so you will be shadowing them. Learn what they know. If they need something, get it for them. Do _not_ get in the way. Understood?"

"Yes ma'am."

"Good. Officers, have a safe shift."

"And you, Superintendent Peck," they returned, trailing off slightly because she was already ten strides away and on her phone again. The women turned to her and Gail hid her gulp when she realised they were examining her, just as she had been taught no doubt.

"Traci Nash," the taller one introduced herself. Gail examined her in return, taking advantage of the moment as they shook hands. Tall, black, nice hair, wide smile, maybe a little too trusting for this job, a few wrinkles in her shirt already possibly not ironed which meant she was too busy to do it for some reason, firm handshake – nice.

"Andy McNally," said the other. Gail almost flinched in the face of her overwhelming nice. Tall not as tall as Nash, hair tied back, sweet smile, _enthusiastic, _definitely too nice for this job, impeccably ironed uniform, good handshake – also nice. She felt not a small amount of relief in the pit of her stomach that she had been tasked with these two officers to shadow. She could have done a lot worse. "So, the Superintendent is your mother?" McNally nudged her, eyebrows up in a question.

"Obviously," Gail replied, with less bite than she would usually use. It was a stupid question but she didn't want to alienate these women. One, she didn't want them giving a bad report to her mother and two, they seemed like good people and hopefully they would be good police.

"Stupid question, Andy," Nash laughed. "What have you got there?" She asked, looking at the bags Gail had lugged in.

"Textbooks," she said, still quiet.

"For?" They nudged, seemingly happy to just talk to her. Interested, even. It made Gail uncomfortable.

"School. Biology," she expanded. Her eyes drifted away nervously over to take in the rest of the station – the main floor with the uniforms, the next level for detectives, the Staff Sergeants corner office – and her lips closed tight. Traci Nash watched as the girl seemed to fold in on herself just a little and she nudged Andy, silently urging her to back off a little.

"Alright then. We can do more get to know you chatting later but we have to get to work. What do you know about paperwork?" Andy laughed, knowing that paperwork was the bane of most police. Her laughter stopped when Gail effortlessly rattled off a list of forms and codes that had taken the officers six months in the Academy to learn. Wide eyes and slightly agape mouths made the pale girl blush and close her mouth – stupid, she berated herself. You're here to learn.

But the officers seemed to think she was anything but stupid. "Peck," Traci said, slinging an arm around the girls' shoulders, "stay with us. We want to keep you." She steered her towards their desks, Andy practically skipping along beside them. "I have a feeling that you are the best intern a girl could ask for. And Andy – we have her all to ourselves."

Andy, eyes up to the sky and lips moving in a silent prayer, smiling, seemed to be thanking some higher power and Traci walked with a little more strut. Seeing their reactions, Gail allowed herself a little smile. It seemed like for the first time in her life, her first impression was actually pretty good.

**Duke's is completely fictional, by the way. It is based on a shop I know but the actual store doesn't exist. Also, I'm not Canadian so I'm writing this as completely fictional sorry. Otherwise, I hoped you liked the chapter and please let me know. Oh, and I need to follow more Rookie Blue/Gail and Holly people on tumblr so you can follow me at unicyclehippo over there as well. Reviews are appreciated. Happy reading, readers :) **


	4. Chapter 4

**How The Light Gets In: Chapter Four**

**I don't own Rookie Blue**

**I assure you I will be finishing this story. I'm just a horrible person and it takes me a while to get anything down. Please be warned – there are one or two homophobic slurs and an ablest slur and a fight scene in this chapter. Nothing too bad.**

**Please enjoy. **

_I wish that right at this moment I could be treated with the kind of unreserved love dished out by intelligent and warm parents to a beautiful first child. – Hyland_

* * *

What a pleasant day. "Gail" She didn't have a worry in the world "Gail" having finished the assignments due today about four days ago "Gail" and there wasn't a single person to bother "Gail" her while she was "Gail" _clearly_ going somewhere and moving with great "Gail" purpose and _not in the mood to be both-_"GAIL"-_ered!_

"_What_?" She spun around to face her incredibly annoying follower.

"Gail," he wheezed. "Finally." Chris bent over to catch his breath, hands braced on his knees. "I've been calling you for ages." He waved back down the hallway in the direction they had come.

Gail folded her arms. "I know. I heard you."

"If you heard me, why didn't you – you know what, never mind." Chris shook his head, straightening up. "Look, I just wanted to tell you I got tackled at training yesterday. You know how bad it was raining and the defense just _bam_." Chris punched his fist into his hand, demonstrating. "They just fell into me, full on knocked me to the ground. Can you believe that?"

"Yes."

Chris grimaced at her lack of support and then again when she started to poke at his shoulder, obviously the one he had hurt given all the sports tape. It was supposed to look morbid, what with her blank expression and known penchant for causing other people pain, but really she was making sure that he wasn't about to keel over and die. "Anyway, I can't go to football practice this afternoon."

"And?" she asked, still poking.

"And that means I won't be there after school. I know that it's not great but my shoulder is – would you _please_ stop poking that? It's sore." He flinched when she poked a particularly painful spot.

"Why are you telling me this?" she asked, finally pulling her hand away.

"Oh, well, I just wanted you to know so that you could find a way to get home. Do you want me to ask Dov to give you a lift?"

"No." She turned on her heel and continued toward her classroom.

"So you're going to call someone else to pick you up then?" he pressed, following her.

"Chris, you know I catch the bus."

"Yeah but that's while I'm there. But I won't be there and it'll be dark and you should get someone to pick you up."

"Who would I call?" she asked thoughtlessly, flicking through the pages of her assignment.

"Your mom?" Chris offered.

"She's busy."

"Okay. Your dad then."

"He's busy as well."

"Brother?" She'd mentioned Steve in passing once, when asked to contribute after Chloe, excited by the opportunity to bore someone new to death, had practically made a family tree of her own siblings and cousins and nieces and nephews and aunts and uncles and grandparents and great-grandparents…okay she didn't go quite that far but thirty minutes into _the_ most tedious lunch ever and Gail started making things up in her head and again began contemplating the joys of self-inflicted unconsciousness. She would have done anything, absolutely anything, to make Chloe shut up so she jumped at the chance to mention that she had one brother, his name was Steve, and nothing else. It gained her a whole minute of reprieve from Chloe's voice.

"He's not even in the city."

"Then how are you doing to get home?" he asked, stopping her with a hand on her arm before she walked into class.

"Look, Diaz, I appreciate the concern," _not_ "but I'll be fine. Now can you let me go? Because I needed to be in this class about," she glanced at the clock on the wall, "one boring discussion ago." She barely even looked at him while she said it, already trying to scope out the best seat in the class, which was a mistake. If she had been looking at him, she would have seen his face set in determination and she would have been suspicious. As it was, he just let her go and made a call of his own.

"Hey Dov," he said into his phone. "What are you up to this afternoon?"

* * *

The one thing that Gail liked about her mothers intensive pre-police training regime was running. It was something she'd found easy from the beginning and now it was kind of relaxing. It let her think. And the beauty of running on a track was in the freedom and ease of it – it was slightly spongy to take stress off the knees and ankles and there was no need to look out for cars or cyclists like she did running around the streets. Plus, she liked the sound her feet made.

She picked a reasonable pace and sunk fully into the rhythm of it, listening to the _thump_ of her feet and sparing only a little energy to listen to the other runners. She felt the stretch and slight burn in her legs and lungs. It felt good.

"Run _faster_, Peck!" her coach bellowed from the dugout. He had hidden himself in there when it started raining slightly – a mist, nothing to stop running over. "They're gaining on you."

She knew they weren't. She couldn't hear them. But Gail chanced a glance over her shoulder anyway and eventually spotted the other runners half the track behind her. They were staggering a little and, yep, that one fell over. She allowed herself a little smirk before glaring at the coach – how dare he attempt to use scare tactics on her?

"Pick up the pace, Peck!" he yelled. She did and the last hundred metres of the track fell away beneath her. "Okay," he said down to his clipboard when she jogged over. "Stretch," he commanded when she didn't immediately begin. A roll of the eyes and then she hooked a hand around her ankle and obediently stretched. "You improved on your time from the last run by a whole minute. That's good but you can do better. Stay hydrated and remember to stretch. Okay?"

"Yes sir." He gave her an approving nod.

"I want to see you here bright and early Wednesday morning," he ordered.

"Yes sir," she said again, but used her face to show him exactly how she felt about that. Not good. Mornings were not something to look forward to. He chuckled and clapped a hand on her shoulder.

"I know the feeling, Peck. Have a good night."

"You too, sir." She jogged to the change rooms and listened with a fond smile as he bellowed at the other runners. A quick look at her watch told her there was exactly no time for a shower and so she slipped into longer running pants and a jacket instead. She groaned picking up her perpetually heavy school bag and took a few seconds to adjust to the weight before—

"Hey Gail."

"_Oh my god!_" she shrieked, jumping into the wall and shoving her assailant away in the same moment.

"Ow," Dov complained from the ground. He had fallen when Gail shoved him and he wondered whether he should bother standing up again. Gail might push him over if he did. She was mean. She would probably do that.

"Dov, what the _hell_?" she breathed out, hand covering her now wildly thumping heart. "What the hell?" she said again, smacking his shoulder when he stood.

"I'm sorry! I thought you heard me," he yelped, trying to deflect her hits.

"Yeah well…I didn't."

"Clearly." He brushed down his pants and picked up his bag. "So, where to?"

"What?"

"Well, Chris told me he walks you somewhere after track. He's not here so I thought I would walk with you." He shrugged. "So…where do you go? The bus stop out front?" Gail nodded and he smiled. "Then let's go, Peck. Time's a wasting."

Gail followed him, silent for once, her mind whirring. "Dov, why are you here?" she asked. He stopped still and looked over her worriedly.

"Did you hit your head when I scared you? Accidentally scared you, I mean," he added, in case she wanted to hit him again. He reached up to poke her head and she slapped his hand away. "I'm walking you to the bus stop," he said slowly. She cross her arms, narrowed her eyes, and he sighed. "Look, Chris called me and told me you'd be walking alone. He wasn't comfortable with that, I wasn't comfortable with that. The world is a scary place. There are ruffians, thugs, poison icy…" Gail felt her lips quirk up despite herself. "Quicksand, cannibals, snakes, the plague, large bugs, men with pointy teeth." He waved a hand. "I should stop. I don't want to upset you."

"You are _such_ a nerd. Are you aware of exactly how nerdy you are?" she said with a shove.

"You know, I don't think you mind nerds so much as you pretend you do," he said, retaliating with a very light punch to her shoulder. She shrugged, but a nerd she certainly didn't mind suddenly consumed her thoughts. She froze in place thinking about the girl – since when did she not hate someone? Or at least mildly dislike them? "Come on." He tugged lightly on her bag strap. "Let's go."

"Dov, I really don't know why you're doing this."

"_Gail_," he groaned. "We are friends now. Friends don't let other friends get attacked by ruffians or thugs or-"

"No, I mean why you? Even Chloe would have been better," she said thoughtfully. "At least she's slightly intimidating. You're like…a tiny little asthmatic puppy." His face fell. "A teeny tiny one. Like a super teeny tiny—"

"Yes thank you Gail! I understand." Gail laughed and Dov tried to scowl. "You're such a bitch.

"Eh." She shrugged. The words sounded awfully like a compliment and she couldn't help but smile. "Thank you."

The bus stop Gail used was out the front of the school, a good ten minutes fast walk from the track. The path to it was dark and, despite his terrible jokes, Gail was glad Dov was with her. It did make her uncomfortable walking in the dark and she hadn't realised how much so until she was faced by the prospect of doing so alone.

"Good thing you're so pale, Peck. You practically glow in the dark," he teased. Gail shot him a look that was venomous and disappointed all at once – he wasn't allowed to make fun of her but, at the same time, it wasn't a very good joke and she almost expected better.

"I think the bus has gone by already," she said quietly. Checking the times, she groaned. Twenty minutes ago. Which meant she had a fifteen-minute wait for the next one or, if she wanted to take it on, a twenty-minute walk home. In the dark. With a heavy bag. Alone.

"That's alright," Dov said. He was already making himself comfortable on the bus bench.

"No. You don't have to wait for me."

"I'm not. You're right there," he said, gesturing to her. "Clearly. I'm waiting for the bus."

"My bus?"

"That's right."

"Why?"

"I'm going to catch it."

"Why? It goes in the complete opposite direction to your house."

"No it doesn't," Dov said stubbornly. "So just…sit down and read a book or something."

She did crack open her new biology book. The chapters they were studying were more advanced than anything she had been taught at her old school. Back there, she hadn't been taking advanced biology so not only had she missed the first week of classes here, she was also almost a year behind in that class.

"Hey," Dov said after a few minutes. "I never said thank you."

"For what?" she mumbled, trying to focus on the text.

"For not making a big deal about Chris." Gail chanced a look over at her friend but he wasn't looking at her. His eyes were closed, actually, and his head was tilted back against the back of the seat. "I know I didn't really give you an explanation-"

"Chris should probably do that," Gail interrupted quietly.

"Yeah, I know. But he won't and it's not because he doesn't trust you or anything." Why would he? Gail thought. They'd only just met. "Chris has some stuff, bad stuff, going on at home and sometimes he stays with me."

"Dov, I knew that already."

"You did?"

"Uh yeah. It was _incredibly_ obvious."

"Oh. Well, all right then. I'll let Chris tell you anything if he wants to then, okay?" Gail just nodded. That was as it should be. "And you know if you want to talk about anything…" he trailed off and tried to catch her eyes, widening his and raising his brows.

"I'm assuming you're making yourself available for that."

"That's right. Dov Epstein, friend supreme."

"Wow. No. I would rather talk to Chloe. I would rather listen to Chloe all week as she describes the attitudes of all the pets she's ever had."

"Hey! Miss Muffet the hamster was actually kind of cute."

"Oh my god, Dov, what are you?" Gail's nose crinkled and she tugged her legs up onto the bench, leaning back against the wall.

"I am a strong man who loves his girl," he said, utterly unconcerned by her opinion. His phone buzzed loudly in his pocket and, yanking it out, he beamed at the screen.

"Chloe?" Gail guessed. When he nodded, she made a thoughtful little sound. "I made a ringtone just for her. It's a recording of me saying 'ignore this' over and over again." She smiled. Dov looked aghast and also disbelieving so she pulled out her phone to prove it.

Dov shook his head, exasperated. "Why don't you like her?"

She shrugged, focusing on her book again. "I don't _not_ like her," she explained. She fiddled with the corner of the page. "But she's…she's just very different."

"Sure." Dov nodded and smiled dopily. "But that's why I like her."

"Fine but it's what makes it difficult for me to like her. I don't know anyone else who is as loud and perky as your girlfriend and I'm just, I'm not used to it." Gail shrugged and closed her book, relieved when she recognised the headlights that cut through the dark as the bus.

Dov pulled out his keys and stood. "Alright, see you later."

"I thought you said you were catching this one," Gail said, eyes narrowed.

"I lied. My car is over there." He clicked the button on his keys and a car across the street lit up. " That bus doesn't go anywhere near my house. But you would have made me leave if I hadn't said that so…"

"So you lied, got it." Gail smiled. The bus ground to a stop and she had time for one last gibe before she hopped on. "Because it's a dark and scary world and you were going to protect me with your teeny tiny arms." The doors closed behind her and she could just make out the words 'Gail, you're a bitch' before she was whisked away. She laughed.

* * *

In the weeks that followed, Gail settled into a routine. Most of it – mornings at the gym three days a week, school, track sessions, home for schoolwork, station internship on Friday nights and weekends, and repeat – was at her mothers command. But there were a precious few moments between those strictly regimented times that belonged to Gail alone.

She watched her favourite soap on the gym television. She chatted to Officer Shaw – Oliver, he kept reminding her – at the precinct and couldn't deny herself a flash of warmth when he nudged his spare donut across the desk to her or when Traci clapped her on the shoulder in thanks for a coffee. There were ten minutes after track when Chris, or now Dov, or both, would walk her to the bus stop – sometimes quiet, sometimes bickering. Then, of course, there were those lunches she shared with her friends, which had started to resemble another lesson since Dov had a new trivia card set. And when Gail went home in the afternoons, still not allowed to accept invitations to their houses, they took it upon themselves to bombard her with texts until she actually turned it off to avoid them.

One moment that had become a staple in Gail's life was Dov escorting her to her third lesson, his class directly opposite. By 'escort' she meant creepily sidling up beside her or trying to sneak up on her or, if he couldn't make it in time, then texting her some stupid trivia question. So, when that time came and went and neither Dov nor an infuriating trivia text arrived, Gail was worried. She made to shrug it away and ignore the anxious feeling that crept up her spine – especially given that the halls were unusually empty – but then she heard the unmistakable sounds of a fight.

She set off at a sprint.

Dov was on the ground when she got there. His lip was bleeding and the skin around his eye was steadily darkening even as she watched. She could also tell that he was struggling for breath and that the pig of a boy standing over him either didn't notice or didn't care.

So Gail did what only Gail could do. The crowd of onlookers, a tight ring of students whom Gail now unconditionally despised for not trying to help Dov, parted as she strode through. She smiled faux-sweetly at the boy-giant standing over her friend.

"Hi," she said softly. "Richard, isn't it?" Her voice was sweet and almost flirty and she clutched her books in front of her demurely. Dov gaped at her – and then gasped for breath. Her eyes flickered to his bag and his asthma puffer and Dov started inching over to it.

"That's right," he grunted. He was a grunter. A boar. Thick nose, slightly upturned like a snout, bloody knuckles, dark eyes, heavy-set build, seemingly no neck – vicious. His eyebrows settled heavily as he frowned. "Get out of the way," he said, seeing that she was slowly moving between him and his victim.

"You look very strong," she commented, ignoring his command. Her voice was quiet and she noticed that all noise had ceased as the bystanders strained to hear what she was saying. Gail felt a tremor run through her – anticipation, maybe. More likely fear. She didn't like the weight of so many eyes and she really didn't like her chances against a boy twice her size. She pressed on. "Why are you fighting him?" A tilt to her mouth – derision. Dov grabbed his inhaler and gave her a thumbs up, gasping a puff of the medicine into his lungs. She relaxed a tiny bit, reassured that he would be okay. "He's so _small_," she pointed out.

The boy-giant grunted again. "Fucking retard was prancing around with his girl, acting like she was with him outta something other than pity or something. Faggot had it coming." He cracked his knuckles. "Now _move_. I wasn't done."

Gail wondered where this boy had come from. It was like he had sprung from the television screen, from some show where football players roamed the halls with their prom queen girlfriends and threw nerds into dumpsters. Surely people like him didn't exist in the real world – but here he was and she was standing in his way.

He went to push her aside and the years of Peck training flooded her brain. She let go of her books and

Grab.

Twist.

Knee.

Push.

her books hit the floor with a smack. Then he was on the ground, her knee pressing into the small of her back and his arms forced behind him in a hold her mother would definitely be proud of.

"Okay," she said, still quiet. The audience waited with baited breath. "Listen up, Dick. That guy there? Look at him." She dragged his face up, propping his chin on the ground to look at a wide-eyed Dov. "That's my friend. And he's a very nice person so I am _very _upset that you would hurt him." She twisted his arm a little, making him cry out. "This is what's going to happen. You are going to apologise to him. His name is Dov Epstein. Then you are going to apologise for your homophobic and disability slurs because it's 2014 and no one cares for that kind of bullshit anymore. Third, you're going to apologise for wasting my time. Do you understand?"

"Yes," he whimpered. She knew from experience that pain was radiating from his joints, wrist and shoulder, and relaxed her hold very slightly.

"Good. Go ahead."

"I'm sorry, Dov Epstein," he said quickly. "And I'm sorry for calling you a fag and a retard because that's not cool and I'm sorry for wasting your time."

Gail waited a moment more before pushing herself off him. "Okay then." She brushed her hands on her jeans and moved over to Dov, kneeling with him to help collect their things.

Here is something one should understand when dealing with teenage boys. They are hormonal creatures. Testosterone floods their system, making them grow muscles and sprout hair and make bad decisions. They suffer from an inflated ego and then, when they feel as though that ego has been wounded, they get angry. And boys like Richard, aka Dick, make bad decisions so frequently that what happened next could hardly be considered a surprise.

Dick pushed himself to his feet and seemed to be deep in thought, his frown cutting a gouge in his forehead. And then he looked up and, seeing Dov about to leave and Gail behind him, he charged.

In an instant, the circle that had begun to disperse closed in around them, trapping Gail in with the boy. Hoots and hollers broke the silence. Gail turned and fell under the weight of the boy, who was already throwing punches. She felt the air in her lungs escape in a pained huff as her back smacked against the floor, her head knocking into the tiles a moment later. But then she was giving as good as she got, using everything she had learnt in her scuffles with her brother. She went shamelessly for his weak spots – slamming her knee into his groin, yanking his pinkie back, smashing her elbow into his face and rolling him off her.

She scrambled to her feet, staggering for a moment as the blood pounded in her skull painfully. She scowled at him. Then arms locked about her chest, holding her arms to her side, and pulled her away from the fight. She started to struggle against this new attacker until she looked over her shoulder and saw that it was her coach. Then she fell silent and still and allowed him to drag her out of the now quickly dispersing fight circle.

Across from her, the football coach had stepped in front of the boy-giant and was berating him, low and angry, jabbing him with a thick finger to the sternum and dragging him away.

"Damn Peck." Swarek whistled. "You don't mess around." He clapped her on the shoulder. "Need to go to the nurse?" he asked, touching his thumb to her cheek. The touch stung and she flinched away from his hand. She was surprised though – she hadn't felt that hit. Adrenaline, probably, had numbed it.

"No," she denied. "No. I'll be fine. I am fine." She shrugged his hand away.

"Fine," he said with an almost identical shrug. "To the principal with you then."

"You too, Epstein," Swarek barked.

"Hey! I only got my face punched in – I didn't do the face punching," he argued.

"And as the face punchee, I'm sure Principal Booth would like to talk with you. Let's go."

Dov and Gail marched side by side through the school, Swarek behind them. They didn't talk but their steps slowly and dragged the closer they got to the office until Swarek was almost pushing them in front of him.

Dick was sitting in a chair already – the most comfortable one – in the waiting room that adjoined to the principal's office. He glared at Dov but, when his gaze drifted to Gail she narrowed her eyes and jerked her chin in a silent command. He flinched and rocketed out of the chair, scurrying to the other wall. Then Gail shoved Dov down into the comfortable seat and took her place standing next to him, staring down the now pale boy opposite.

Swarek snorted.

Gail was almost enjoying herself. Dov was fine, Swarek obviously didn't care and might be slightly impressed by her actions and, despite the slight throbbing in her cheek and the back of her head…and her ribs…and her backside, Gail felt she had done quite well.

Principal Booth disagreed.

* * *

"That is so not fair!" Dov yelled. He and Gail were in chairs to the right of Principal Booth, Dick in a chair to the left.

"Violence is just not tolerated here, Miss Peck, Mr Epstein. Mr Ford," she said to the hunched boy.

"Yeah, which is why Gail _stopped_ him! That Hulk of a boy," Dov's arm snapped out to point accusingly at Dick Ford, "was wailing on me and I hadn't even done anything. He just didn't like the way I looked."

"He didn't like the way you looked," Gail agreed quietly, nodding.

"And so he was wailing on me – do you see this?" He pointed to his busted lip, swelling fat and thick, and his black eye. "He did that. And I was like a minute away from an asthma attack when Gail stepped in."

"I see that, Mr Epstein. I do. And I assure you that I am taking it into consideration concerning Mr Ford's punishment. However, Miss Peck, it just wouldn't be fair to let you off with just a warning." Gail nodded. Worth it. "Which is why your parents have been informed of the situation. They will be here shortly and then we will discuss consequences." And suddenly, it almost wasn't worth having saved Dov's life.

"Please, Principal Booth, my mother really doesn't have to come down. I'm fine and I'll take the punishment, I promise. Detention, suspension, whatever. _Please_."

Principal Booth took the plea, which bordered on desperate, and pursed her lips thoughtfully. She shook her head. "I'm sorry, Miss Peck, but I really must talk to your mother. It isn't only about punishment, dear, though I will agree that you are looking at suspension. This is about making sure that you know and your family knows that violence is unacceptable."

"I do know. I do. I'm so sorry and it'll never happen again. I swear." Dov was looking askance at her, confused by the tone dripping in sincerity. That wasn't the Gail he knew. But he also knew a Gail who was perpetually, arrogantly relaxed, slightly aloof, and held herself apart from everyone and he had always just assumed that was who she was. Now, she was near shaking in her seat.

"Hold on a second – Gail _protected_ me," Dov found himself saying. "She disabled Dick – sorry, _Richard_," he corrected himself with a sneer to the boy on the other side of the room, "without hurting him at all and made him apologise for being an asshole but then when she let him go he attacked her. She was defending herself and me!"

"Mr Epstein-"

"It's not fair – Gail was doing a good thing. She shouldn't be punished for that."

"And I will discuss what occurred separately with each of you and with your parents, you can be assured of that Mr Epstein. But I also do not condone insubordination and you are one word away from suspension yourself. Do you understand me? Think carefully about how you answer me." There was an iron undertone to her voice that would have impressed Gail – she thought the woman was all purple clothes and purple accessories and purple lip-sticked smiles, but she could be tough when she needed to be – if Gail hadn't already drawn back into herself.

"Yes ma'am," came the identical murmurs from her students.

"Principal Booth?" came a timid voice from the door. "Mrs Peck is here," the secretary said.

"Send her in," the principal said. "Mr Epstein, Mr Ford, wait outside until your parents arrive and I call you in. Miss Peck, you may stay."

The boys, skulking out of the office, were the first to see the thunderous expression on Elaine Peck's face and to see her starched police uniform. Ford stopped short when he saw her, Dov running into his back. They shared identical gulps of terror and Dov turned to see Gail, already ashen, pale even further. She stood, nodding to her mother, and set her shoulders. Dov sent her an encouraging smile but she didn't see it.

"Gail," he heard her mother say before the door closed. "What is the meaning of this?"

Dick Ford's mother arrived to pinch his ear and make him sink further into his seat. Both of Dov's parents turned up to worry over him and his injuries. But all Dov wanted was to see how Gail turned out. When she strode out of the room, following her mother, he shrugged out of his parents hold and raced over to her.

"Did you get out?" is the first question he asked. "Your mom is like some super cop, right?" He had googled her. "So did you get out?"

"Why would I get out of punishment? She's a _police officer_. She lives to lock people up," Gail snapped. "Get out of my face, Epstein."

"Whoa, sorry." He held his hands up in immediate surrender – this was an angry Gail that he hadn't seen before. "So what did you get?"

"Suspension for the rest of the week and detention for the week after." Dov's mouth fell open. That was three days – and _totally_ unfair given that Dick over there had started the whole thing.

"God, Gail, that sucks. I'm sorry."

"You should be. If you'd been able to look after yourself, Epstein, I wouldn't have been in trouble at all," she said, a harsh edge to her voice. Her icy stare, for the first time, actually scared him a little and she took the time to scowl at him as well before leaving him in the waiting room. Her mother gestured her over and she slipped into an expressionless mask before joining her.

* * *

Late that night, a message lit up Dov's phone and he checked it with bleary eyes. **Gail Peck: Sorry**, was all it read. He grinned. She didn't hate him! He gave a little cheer, which made Chris groan and throw a pillow over at him, mumbling 'shut up, Dov'.

**Dov: Thanks for saving my life.**

**Gail: Whatever. You owe me.**

**Dov: Goodnight Gail :)**

**Gail: Ew. Gross. Don't use smileys with me**

**Dov: :) :) **

**Gail: I'm ignoring you. I hope your face hurts. **

**Disclaimer: I borrowed some lines from Tangled because I thought it would be funny. I hope this was okay. Reviews are lovely. Happy reading, readers :)**


	5. Chapter 5

**How The Light Gets In: Chapter Five**

**I don't own Rookie Blue**

**Please enjoy.**

_I never hear the word "escape" without a quicker blood, a sudden expectation, a flying altitude. I never hear of prisons broad by soldiers battered down, but I tug childish at my bars, – only to fail again! – Dickinson _

* * *

Upon waking the next morning, Gail had the suspicion that these next three days, this suspension, were going to be the most gruelling three days of her life. She had that suspicion because her mother had told her as much the night before. Hearing it and living through it were two very different things, however.

Her mother had collected her from her bedroom that night, one cursory knock on the door announcing her intrusion. "Gail, come downstairs when you're ready." That was code for 'immediately'. She did. "Would you make us a tea?" Gail paused for a moment. That wasn't good. _That_ was code for 'this is going to take a long time'. But she paused for too long – "Gail," her mother said again, stern.

"Yes mother."

They sat in the dining room. Elaine was on one side of the square table. Her back was ramrod straight and her presence filled the room, intimidating. Gail sat opposite her. She felt about two inches tall. She locked her hands around her mug; the ceramic was almost burning to the touch but it offered something else to concentrate on, other than her mother who seemed intent on examining every inch of her and probably finding a flaw in each.

"First of all," Elaine said finally, "I am proud of you." Gail blinked. She had never heard that from her mother before. "Loyalty is an excellent quality to have, as is bravery. Well done." Gail just nodded her head, overwhelmed and speechless from the kindness. "I ascertained from your coach and from the boy whose aid you came to that you incapacitated the aggressor first. Is that accurate?"

"Yes mother." Gail explained the moves she had used, enjoying for the brief moment the way her mother nodded and listen closely.

"A good plan. Solid and well executed. Thoughtful as well, recognising the limits that asthma placed on your fried. Well done." Gail flushed with pride. "Of course, there is always room for improvement. The boy did attack you-"

"I turned my back to help Dov," Gail supplied, wanting that warmth back, that approval. But it was gone as quickly as it came. A cool stare froze the words in her mouth.

"Do not interrupt me, Gail." She bit her lip, lowering her gaze to her mug. She turned the mug and pressed it between her palms. "And that would be your problem. You don't turn your back on an attacker," she said, sounding frustrated. "I've told you that time and again. Is it truly that hard to listen and retain information? I _know _that you are clever," Elaine said fiercely. "I don't understand why you make it so hard for others to see that." Gail just bit her lip harder, nodding. "I was also made aware that you received a B plus on your Biology quiz," she continued.

"Those marks…" Gail frowned. "I haven't got them back yet." A B plus was actually pretty good. She'd studied hard for that quiz – it counted for barely three per cent of her grade for the year but she knew she had to do a lot of catch up to fit into advanced placement.

"Your principal was kind enough to tell me today. A B plus is unacceptable. I know that you are capable," she said again. "You are a Peck, Gail. And to remind you of what that means, I have planned your suspension with that in mind. The next few days will be busy. I expect you to give one hundred per cent to every task." Gail nodded. She pressed her fingers harder into the ceramic. "You are not permitted to go anywhere with anyone that I have not approved in advance. That is punishment for your grade." Elaine fixed her with a disapproving glare. "Obviously, your friends are distracting and detracting from your work. Therefore, I have taken the liberty of finding you a tutor. For the foreseeable future you will be here, at the station, at school, or with your tutor. You will be logging a minimum of four hours at the range each week. You will-"

Gail tuned her out, knowing that a schedule would appear on her desk by ten pm that night at the latest. She gazed down into the murky tea. She didn't like tea, actually. She hated it. She always had. She wondered if her mother knew that.

The schedule was on her desk at nine-thirty.

Her tea remained untouched.

* * *

She was woken by her father when he started preparing for his day – five-thirty on the dot saw a light tapping on her bedroom door and a murmured 'good morning Gail' – and fifteen minutes later her mother shooed her out of the house.

"I mapped out the six mile run for you. You really shouldn't rely so much on the track at your school. It feels different and you should be prepared to run on any kind of material." The six-mile she mapped out took Gail over road, loose gravel, forest path, sand, and back onto the road. She preferred the track at school. "It shouldn't take you longer than forty minutes."

It took her forty-two. Her head was pounding and her bruises ached in synch with her heartbeat. It looked, for a moment or two, like her mother was contemplating sending her out to do it over again when she folded her newspaper down and pursed her lips, consulting her watch.

"I expect you'll do better tomorrow," is all she said. "Go shower. You're coming with me to the range."

"You never know what kind of injuries you will sustain in the line of duty," she tells Gail as she cuts across the traffic. "It will be good practice to understand how to compensate for your injuries."

'Training' is what she called it. 'Obscene punishment' is what Gail heard. Each time she pulled the trigger, it sent waves of force through her body and her ribs protested majorly. Usually, it wasn't so bad. She actually really liked her gun and knew how to account for the kickback. She liked the weight of it in her hands and she liked knowing that she could hit pretty much anything she aimed for. She didn't like pain and her noodle arms were shaking badly.

Her aim was fine. Elaine even looked slightly impressed – she examined the sheet and, seeing all of the shots in a tight grouping centre mass, gave Gail a quick nod. It wasn't much but it meant a lot to Gail. It had to; otherwise, the now constant pain in her body was for nothing.

"Adequate," was all she said. And then, "Get changed. I've offered your services to the station for the next three mornings, as well as your weekend shifts."

"Yes mother."

"I also want to see you at the obstacle course this afternoon. You'll need to see how different it is moving with an injury – I don't want your time increasing by more than fifteen seconds. Understood?"

"Yes mother."

"Good. Go and see Staff Sergeant then. I believe he has use for you."

* * *

"I've been told you were suspended," Staff Sergeant Best said, leaning back in his chair.

"Yes sir." She fixed her eyes on the desk.

"Care to tell me what for?"

"My friend was in trouble, sir," she said quietly. "I took care of it." She didn't see the way his lips quirked up at that – not only did she not dare look up, but he also slung his hand across his mouth to hide it. Her words sounded vaguely threatening and certainly fit with what his officers Nash and McNally had already told him: that the pale girl with the Peck name on his shoulders was a lit rocket inside a heavy-duty lock box. McNally's words. "Fighting is against the rules, of course sir. Hence the suspension. And I would never have done it if my friend wasn't hurt. Sir."

"Three days suspension?" he asked, looking at the note.

"Yes sir."

"And I see that you have been volunteered for the rest of the week." Gail nodded. Staff Sergeant Best leant back further into his chair, musing over where to put her. The enormous bruise that turned her cheek blue worried him. The way that she sat gingerly told him that her ribs hurt. Honestly, the girl should be at home in bed in his opinion but that wasn't up to him. It was up to her mother and unfortunately her mother happened to be his boss. The best he could do was make it so she didn't have to move all that much.

"Well, Peck," he said, making his decision. "We have a lot of backlogged case files from years back. They're all on print and we need someone to input them into the database. Are you up for it?"

"Yes sir," she said again, quietly.

"Good." He nodded and she caught the dismissal, launching herself out of her seat and out the door. She was glad – in the last few minutes, her knees had started shaking with nerves, nerves that insisted that she should be out of that room and away from his thoughtful stare.

Best stood and moved to his doorway, calling out to the man who lingered nearby, feigning interest in the photocopier. "Oliver," he said. The man shifted closer. "Keep an eye on her?" he asked kindly.

"Yep." Oliver saluted his Staff loosely and Best closed the door, setting back into his desk. His desk, with the draw that stuck when he reached for his stash of snacks and made him wish for his goddaughter right then who had some ridiculous and mysterious power over broken things.

For his part, Oliver waited a little while – Andy McNally kindly waited out by the squad for him – and he made a mug of coffee in his favourite DAD mug. Gail, he knew, was fond of it. He had let her have it in one of her earlier shifts…after some grumbling on his behalf. He also snagged some chips from a vending machine.

"Hey Peck." He tapped on the door, grabbing her attention. He tried not to wince at the colour on her cheek. "How do you like your new office? Pretty sweet, huh?" He looked around at the boxes that filled the space almost to the roof. She was already amongst them, rifling through the files trying to find somewhere to begin.

"Very cool, Officer Shaw."

"Oliver, darlin'," he corrected with a little duck of the head. "Oh that won't do," he continued. He had caught sight of her car. It was a hard metal stool and he grabbed it, placing the snacks and coffee he'd brought on the desk, carrying the chair to the lounge where he switched it for the most comfortable seat they had. Which still wasn't very comfortable but it was a sight better than the stool.

"Oh, Oliver, you don't have to…" She stood awkwardly to the side, arms wrapped around her stomach, while he rearranged her room. He fluffed a pillow he had found somewhere.

"Come on, Peck. Let me take care of my snacking buddy." He mock-scowled at her. "Do I look like a guy who wouldn't take care of his snacking buddy?"

"No," she said quietly.

"No. Because I do. I do take care of people who snack with me. And Peck, let me tell you something." He clapped a hand on her shoulder. "You, my dear, snack with the best of them. I don't know where you found those donuts last weekend but you have to tell me because I feel like a teenage girl with a crush on those donuts. I think I'm in love." He nodded seriously and Gail felt the first smile of the day cross her face. "Hey, there we go." His smile answered hers. "Okay, if you need anything let me know. Do good work, Peck."

"Have a safe shift," she called after him. He turned around and waved, grinning as acknowledgement.

McNally was half asleep in the squad when he got there. "You ready, McNally?" She grunted. "Boyfriend keeping you awake?" he teased and she grunted again.

"What took you so long?" She rubbed her eyes with the back of a hand and shook the sleep out of her head.

"Just checking on our little intern," he said, tapping at the wheel. "She got into a fight at school."

"Oh my god, is she okay? Wait – she's at the station? Why is she at the station? She should be at home resting if she was in a fight. Why isn't she at school? Did she get _expelled_?" Andy asked in a high-pitched voice that had Oliver leaning away. "Why isn't she at home? Is she okay?"

"McNally, you have to breathe and you also have to pause so that I can actually answer one of your questions," he scolded mildly. "She'll be fine. But, hmm," he ducked his head into a shrug. "Keep an eye on her, maybe? I don't think she has it easy," he said very casually. And since he was a wisdom-spewing father figure of the precinct with three daughters of his own and since some of the things he'd said had _literally_ saved her life before and since she had decided to keep an eye on Gail anyway, she took his words to heart.

The end of McNally's shift saw her lingering in Gail's doorway. "You don't look so great," Andy said, leaning against the doorframe. Gail looked up at her, letting Andy get a glimpse of the colourful side of her face. "Holy shit!" she started. "Oliver said you were fine."

"I am fine. You look like shit though," Gail said, falling quickly into her happy place of snark. Andy relaxed. If she was well enough to be mean, she would be fine.

"Thanks. You look like you were the one out fighting crime today, not me."

"And you look like you let a three year old boy do your makeup. Smokey eyes or yesterdays eyeliner?"

"Oh good one. Tell me, how _does_ your face feel after someone uses it for art practice?" Andy grimaced when she heard that one fall flat and Gail's nose scrunched up.

"I'm guessing that one was because of the colour?" The officer nodded. "Yeah, that wasn't good."

"I know, I'm sorry. Usually I'm better than that."

"I know. That's why I don't hate you as much as I hate other people," Gail said with a shrug. "But hey. If you feel like you need to make it up to me, you can get me a refill. I needed one like an hour ago but I couldn't be bothered to get up." She held out her DAD mug, wriggling it invitingly. Andy took it.

"I'm not sure you should be drinking coffee. Aren't you like twelve?"

"Oh ha ha. Fine. You drink it then because you look like you could seriously use a pick me up. You look like you haven't slept." Gail opened the door to the fridge and paused thoughtfully. "Actually you look like you haven't slept and while you weren't sleeping, you were living under a bridge. You look like a tired homeless person, is my point."

"Thank you _so_ much for that description."

Gail leant her chin on the open fridge door and smiled sweetly. "You're welcome."

"And if you must know, I haven't really been sleeping," Andy confessed quietly. She poured sugar and cream into the coffee. Gail paused, recognising with a swift and almost debilitating understanding that this was the moment where she was supposed to be all caring and friendly. She didn't really know how to do that. "I've been fighting a lot with my fiancée."

"Why?" Gail blurted out, her voice as bored as she could consciously force it to be.

"He cheated on me."

"That's not something you should fight about," the girl snorted.

Andy looked up with a frown. She put the sugar back down on the bench, fixing her focus on the younger woman. Gail avoided that stare by fiddling with the milk.

"What?"

Gail's face morphed into a scowl. Whether it was because of her thoughts or because Andy was making her repeat herself, the officer wasn't sure. "This milk is off," she said. Ah. That was why. "Anyway, I _said_ that isn't something you should fight about. So don't fight about it – tell him he's out. Better yet, don't tell him and let him come back to your place and find out you changed the locks. Dump his good for nothing ass. If he was stupid enough to cheat on you, McNally, then he's too stupid to marry." Gail shrugged. "You can do better."

"Gail," Andy gushed, hand on her heart. "That was sweet." She loved the way Gail's face twisted, sour. "You are so, so nice."

"Ugh. Go away." Gail snatched the coffee and retreated to the office she had been assigned. "I'm very busy."

"Oh, actually you're done. You're only here until twelve, right?" Gail nodded. "It's twelve oh seven, baby, so you are free," she crowed with a big smile. Gail forced a scowl in the face of such unrepentant happiness. "And since you're free," she continued as they walked together to Andy's desk, "do you want to go to this diner down the street?"

"I'm flattered but if you want to move on from your fiancée at least pick someone who's out of school," she said with a perfectly straight face. "And who isn't out of your league."

Andy faltered for a moment before elbowing Gail. "God, you're such a jerk. No, I heard you like donuts."

Gail frowned, wondering who had tattled on her. And then, recognition blooming across her face, she asked, "Oliver?"

"Oliver," Andy confirmed. "So," she said, trying to bribe Gail, "this place has _really_ good ones."

Tempting as it was, Gail knew that she shouldn't. She didn't have time to turn the other woman down however because she felt her mother – a presence that loomed and made other officers visibly cower – approaching from behind her. Andy's spine stiffened in front of her like someone had dropped an ice cube down the back of her uniform. Gail prepared herself, lifting her chin just a fraction.

"Officer McNally," Elaine greeted. "You made a good arrest today."

"Thank you, Superintendent Peck."

"Gail," Elaine said next. "Shouldn't you be at the obstacle course now?"

"Yes mother."

"Oh but Gail, what about your face? And your ribs," Andy said, forgetting whose company they shared. "Won't it hurt? Maybe you should give it a rest for a bit."

"I'm perfectly capable," Gail said stiffly. The truth was that she ached all over. Andy seemed to know that because she frowned and took a step closer to her. Elaine laid a hand on Gail's shoulder and also stepped in. All the easy camaraderie in the world wasn't worth upsetting your boss or risking a complaint.

"Thank you for your concern, Officer." Her tone was frosty. Gail looked to the floor and hoped that McNally wasn't stupid enough to, god forbid the thought, defend her against her mother. "But Gail is, as she said, perfectly capable. She's a smart girl. She knows her limits." But the truth in that was that Elaine knew Gail's limits – Elaine _thought_ she knew her limits – and she would push Gail until she reached or surpassed them. Gail kept her eyes on the ground as her mother escorted her to the gym and was thankful when McNally just nodded and moved away.

Elaine turned on Gail with eyes on her watch and only time enough for a timely briefing. "I will be here at one-thirty to take you home. The meeting with your tutor is at three."

"Yes mother."

"I expect you will complete the obstacle course three times. Record those times and write a report detailing where you can improve for next week."

"Yes mother."

"Good."

Her mother, Gail thought. So caring, so nurturing. So willing to see her daughter in pain so long as that pain was a useful tool to learn a lesson. In discipline, in the consequences that come with making a mistake. In getting a B plus for Advanced Biology. Gail smirked to herself as she touched her cheek and probed gently around the edge of the bruise. She was just glad she hadn't allowed herself to be bullied into Chemistry. Or, god forbid, _Physics_. Science and math had no business working together, she thought.

* * *

Nash came into the gym to use the weights after Gail finished her second run through of the course. From the way her eyes lingered worriedly, Gail knew that someone had sent her. Probably McNally. What a loudmouth. She felt them closing in around her – metaphorically speaking. Oliver, Andy, and now Traci. They were _hovering_ and Gail didn't understand why. Most likely they doubted her abilities while she was injured. Doubted how helpful she could be. Maybe, she thought darkly, they even doubted her when she was at one hundred per cent. She was a Peck, sure, but not much of one in her mothers' private opinion. Why would they think any different?

"Gail, don't you think you should take a break?" she asked when the blonde readied herself for the third attempt.

"Probably," came the answering grunt. This was a test, Gail knew. She pushed harder.

The woman watched as Gail – a girl not even out of high school – completed the obstacle course faster than probably half of the officers in the 15th could. But she also watched as, immediately afterward, the girl bent over and held her ribs.

"Jesus, Gail," she scolded as she hurried over. "Just sit down already."

"I can't. I have to record the times and then I have to figure out what I did wrong."

"No. You don't." Traci manoeuvred Gail – breathless, pale, grimacing Gail – onto a weights bench. "And you didn't do anything wrong. Except maybe running through that stupid course more than once."

"It's training."

"Um no. Doing it twice in a row when you're _healthy_ is torture enough," Traci joked. "Three times? Injured?" She tilted the girls chin to look at the bruise that near enough everyone in the division surreptitiously, to varying degrees, had checked out.

"I'm fine," Gail insisted, shrugging out of Traci's hold. "Seriously. But hey, you're a cop," she said, her eyes lighting up.

"An excellent deduction, Intern Peck."

"Do you have any pointers?" she asked, gesturing to the obstacle course. "I need to get through it faster."

"Gail…" Traci sighed. Gail's jaw was set stubbornly and her expression told the officer that she was going to ignore anything that sounded even vaguely like discouragement. "Yes. Fine. You need to push more with your legs when you're going over the wall. At the moment, you're relying too much on your arms to pull you. You want to push more when you jump and brace your foot on the wall to give yourself another boost." Gail nodded. "It's the same when you're crawling. If you position your foot like _this_," Traci moved Gail's foot for her, "it'll help you push more and you'll go faster." Gail nodded again. "I assume you'll be doing it a fourth time even if I tell you not to?" Gail nodded a third time. "What if I handcuffed you to this bench?"

"Sorry," Gail shrugged, not sorry at all. She liked Traci but she much preferred not being in trouble with her mother. So when Traci huffed but stood and moved out of Gail's way, she smiled for the second time that day and thanked her.

Elaine hadn't told her to do a fourth run. Gail was exhausted and shaky but she was also determined to shave off a few seconds with Traci's advice and so she lined her toes up with the starting line tape and pressed start on her watch.

She improved on her time by a whole three and a half seconds despite a stumble near the end and was about to thank her mentor when she noticed her mother in the doorway. The woman had a seriously uncanny knack for turning up any time Gail was enjoying herself.

"Thank you," she murmured very quietly. Gail went to pack up her things when Elaine stopped her with a hand on her arm.

"Did I see you trip in the fourth stage?" she asked.

Gail's heart fell. "Yes mother."

"Do it again."

"Superintendent Peck," Traci interjected, "she's done it four times already."

"I know. And now she will do it again."

Gail winced. Great. Another two strikes – one, for another officer who was going to be put on her mother's shit list and two, stumbling on the track which meant she had to run _again_ despite doing an extra lap already. Great. Gail moved to the start line, leaving her mother and Nash to stare each other down. She gingerly touched her aching torso and rolled her shoulders, determined. It hurt but she could do this.

Traci stepped into place next to her. "Come on, Peck," she said with a wide, white grin. "Let's see what you're made of."

Gail beat her by a single stride. She only wished that her mother hadn't been watching, so that she could trash talk the other woman and say 'in your face' when she turned, breathless, on the finish line. As it was, she just shook hands with Traci once, collected her bag, and strode out of the station.

* * *

She prepared herself to hate her tutor. It was a very involved process consisting mostly of scowling and showing her books into her bag with barely veiled aggression, followed by grumpy mumbling, which in turn was followed by loud tramping down the stairs.

Joining her mother in the car meant that she had ten or so minutes to practice her 'I'm listening intently to every word you say and you can't even tell that I don't give a shit' expression. She intended to use it a lot with her tutor.

They were meeting at a café. A nice open space, presumably so the girl didn't feel uncomfortable going to a strangers' home. Gail guessed that the tutor had picked the place – the art on the wall looked amateur. Bright, yes, and good. But not professional. Coffee smell, the chink of cutlery, and low murmurs filled the air. Gail liked it. Her mother didn't, which was another bonus. But other than the slightly upturned nose and the huff that escaped Elaine when they entered the café, she made no mentioned of the fact that she found the place plebeian and thus beneath her.

Elaine strode into the café and cast around for a face – which, presumably, she knew from a search using police resources. Totally not illegal.

"Ah," her mother said. "Excellent. She's on time. That's promising."

Gail hung behind and murmured a very quiet "yay" but dutifully followed where the shiny, starched white shirt led. She looked up when they were almost at the table and faltered. After glimpsing exactly who the girl was, she slid into place directly behind her mother and clutched at her bag strap. Maybe, if she was very good, God would grant her a miracle. A portal of some description would open up beneath her feet and swallow her into the underworld. Or into lava. Anything but this.

"Miss Stewart?" Elaine asked, faux tentative.

"Oh hi. You must be Mrs Peck."

"I am, yes. I'm afraid I don't have much time so I must be very rude and get to the point. I would like to hire you. My daughter, well, she's very clever," Elaine said with a little laugh. Her entertaining laugh, Gail recognising. She usually whipped it out when she played host and wanted to charm her company. It made Gail scowl. "Of course, she sees the need to hide it behind mediocre grades. I do hope that you can help me out."

"Sure," said that horrifically familiar, pleasant voice. "I'll do my best. You said on the phone it was for Biology, right?"

"Advanced Biology, yes."

"Well cool. I'm studying pre-med at the moment and I took an accelerated program in high school for biology so I'm happy to help." Gail, still hidden behind her mother, rolled her eyes with a smirk. She sounded like a nerd. Plus, Gail was ninety nine per cent certain that the girl just nudged her geeky glasses up her equally geeky nose.

"Mrs Booth spoke very highly of you," Elaine said. "She told me that you had the best grades in the history of the school for Biology and Chemistry."

"Yeah," she laughed. "I kind of love it. I'm a bit of a science nerd."

Nerd was right, Gail agreed.

"Wonderful. Oh, Gail," Elaine said, turning. "Don't be rude. Come and say hello." She stepped aside and turned back to Holly – because of course it was Holly, smart Holly, annoyingly beautiful Holly, bookstore Holly who Gail had been planning to accidentally encounter again sometime, whom her mother had found – and shook her head despairingly. "I just don't know what to do with her. Hopefully you'll rub off on her and she'll be as nice and dedicated to her study as you are. Polite, too." There was that laugh again. What surprised Gail was that Holly's responding laugh sounded decidedly less genuine.

"I'll do my best to teach the course work," Holly said, voice flat. "But, um, you mentioned that you were really busy. How about Gail and I talk about where we want to meet up and what times and all that. I'd hate to keep you." Gail felt a gaze lingering heavily on her. She kept her head down.

And why was she doing that? Ordinarily, Gail knew, she would stare at them. Freak them out. Make them break eye contact first. Revel in the feeling of superiority that came with the territory of being terrifying.

"Oh, don't make me rush you," Elaine said. She immediately checked her watch again. Given that she had the habit of doing so every seven minutes, that would make it the third time.

"No, I insist. We'll be fine. Right, Gail?"

She thought for a moment how to proceed and decided in the end to look up very quickly and nod. She made the mistake of meeting Holly's gaze. It was thoughtful and kind and welcoming and full of all kinds of things that she couldn't decipher. Not with her mother here, not with the nerves that flurried in her stomach. There was worry though, Gail noticed, when Holly saw the bruise. She wondered fleetingly if it had changed shade since she last saw it that morning. She nodded a quick hello, face carefully so carefully blank, and looked away again.

"Wonderful." Elaine made to leave. She bent down to hiss into her daughter's ear, one hand digging into Gail's shoulder. "Make the most of this opportunity. This girl came highly recommended." Gail nodded. Her fingers tightened on the strap of her bag. "Your brother never needed a tutor," she reminded her. "So I needn't remind you not to disappoint in this." Gail nodded again. Her eyes zoomed in on the frayed ends of her laces. Staring at them, she could almost pretend that her mother was being a normal if slightly over-bearing over-protective mother. "I will be at the mayors function this evening so you'll have to make something to eat. Your father will wake you up tomorrow morning." And then came bombshells like that – you're injured but that's fine, I'll just make you do absolutely everything you could possibly fit in a day and then leave you to flounder at night. Mwah. Love ya. Kisses.

"Yes mother." Nothing of her sarcastic inner musings touched her tone. It was perfectly polite.

"A pleasure to meet you, Miss Stewart," Elaine said as she left.

"Oh, sure, likewise." Holly looked up from her book and sent Gail's mother a nod and a mostly genuine smile. And then her eyes set on Gail and that smile was suddenly real and full and she nodded again in a way that felt oddly like she was beckoning, come closer, come on. "Do you want to sit down?"

Gail waited a moment, turning her head to watch her mother stride away. Once she was out of sight, Gail sat carefully on the edge of the seat.

"Well. That was fun," Holly said with a little smile. "That was your mother, huh?"

"Yes. Problem?" Gail snapped. She let her eyes wander away from the table. Two women behind the counter. One man balancing two plates between tables seventeen and six. A group of five against the wall to the right – a birthday celebration from the presents that each had next to them. And over there, nearest the door, a group of four boys. And right next to them, three girls. Those tables were bound to mingle though with the way they were eyeing one another and the nudges and giggles that made up that social interaction.

This table, however, was quiet. The silence probably didn't last longer than ten seconds or so but each one of them ticked by so slowly. Gail wanted nothing more than to grab her stuff and run. Her knees were shaking under the table and she clenched her hands tight on her bag strap in case they tried to tremble as well.

"No problem," Holly said lightly. "I probably should have expected this actually. I mean, you looked _so_ enthused to be studying Advanced Biol when you bought the books," she laughed.

"I-" Gail bit her lip. _I didn't choose it_, she was going to say. Damn this girl. She was somehow very good at making Gail almost say things.

"You…?" Holly prompted.

Gail let her eyes flick over and saw that Holly was smiling at her. For real, wide, dimple-forming smile. She frowned. "I should go." She stood, wincing, and made to shuffle out of the chair. It was mysteriously much harder to get out of than it was to sit into. But a tan hand closed around her wrist and tugged lightly. Her hand was warm.

"No, please. Stay. I'm sorry." She said it instantly. She didn't even know what she was apologising for. Gail didn't know what she thought she should be apologising for. Something. Maybe. Her hand was warm._ No_. Focus. Yes her hand was warm but the girl was_ dammit_ distracting. Gail pulled her hand away. "I'll be nice, I promise." That hand slipped away and Gail found that she was settling again in her seat. She had to say something.

"Fine. I won't be. And I'm only paying you twenty-five dollars for a session."

"I charge twenty."

"The extra five are for snacks. And coffee. You will provide them," Gail said instantly.

"Deal. Your place?"

"No." She would never willingly subject anyone, expect perhaps a nemesis, to her mother. And studying at her house ensured the possibility of a chance encounter.

"Okay. Library?"

"No."

"Well it's too loud to study here and the only other place I really go is my house so…" Holly spread her hands out. _Make a decision_, she seemed to be saying.

"Fine."

"What?"

"Your house will be fine."

Holly frowned. She didn't realise she'd offered that. When she'd mentioned her house, it had been more of a self-deprecating jibe – you know, that she was a major homebody and boring. But Gail just jumped on it.

"Really? You won't study at your house or at a place that's actually built for studying and learning but you'll go to my house?" She narrowed her eyes at Gail. "Should I be worried?"

"Probably," Gail answered airily. Her gaze drifted again, this time to the waiter. He was taking down someone's order and, from the way his face tightened and then forced a smile, someone was being a dick. "No," Gail said a moment later. "I don't like libraries. They smell like old people and there isn't enough hand sanitizer in the world to make me touch their books. Or their chairs."

"Right."

"And, excuse you, I'm a very good house guest," she said. She followed the waiter with her eyes, not liking the way the boy he had been serving glared after him.

"Whoa nelly," Holly breathed. "That is a serious bruise." Gail frowned. She touched her cheek. Holly's eyes were darting over the livid skin and her fingers were twitching on her book. She looked thoughtful and, from the crease between her brows, worried. Oh, Gail remembered, this was the nerd that liked to look at dismembered, decomposing bodies while she ate lunch. She was probably itching to probe the bruise and measure it and take pictures or something.

"It's not, it's nothing." She ducked her chin.

"That is not nothing. Come on, you're definitely coming to my place." Holly grabbed her bag and jacket before offering a hand to Gail.

"Yeah I don't need help."

"Okay."

They stood still for a minute before Gail rolled her eyes. "Nerd, I don't know where your house is. Go."

"What? Oh, right." The brunette turned on her heel and made her way through the café. Gail followed. One guy – the one who had harassed the waiter – grinned at her and gave her an appreciative chin nod. She glared at him. Any boy that thought she was easy pickings when the whole left side of her jaw was _purple_ or _green_ or whatever shade it was, was not a boy that Gail wanted to date. Or even to look at her. He backed down, gulping, when her icy stare intensified.

"You okay?" Holly asked when Gail joined her outside.

"Fine."

"Okay. Well, my car is that way," she pointed and then started in that direction. "Come on."

Gail crossed her arms and stayed where she was. "What if I don't want to get in a car with a stranger?" she asked. Holly paused.

"Oh." She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. "Right. We could catch the bus?" she suggested. "Or get a taxi."

"No. Your car is fine."

If the abrupt change surprised Holly, she didn't show it. She just nodded and smiled. She did that a lot. "Do you want to pick the radio channel?" she asked. Gail changed it to some kind of loud rock. Then, after a moment when Holly didn't complain, the top 20 channel. Nod and smile. Gail narrowed her eyes. She wondered what it would take to annoy this girl.

The drive, throughout which Gail prepared to dive out of the car if it turned out that she was planning something nefarious, culminated somewhat predictably with them pulling up outside a nice house. Holly's house. She opened the front door with a small kick to the bottom of it and a quick lift and push. "It gets stuck," she said with a shrug. "Oh and the house smells a little weird because we've been painting the upstairs."

"I thought that was just you," Gail sniped. Holly just smiled.

"You can leave your stuff in the closet if you want." Holly paused to let her hang up her jacket and drop her bag in the closet before walking away. Gail followed her quickly. She made Gail sit at the dining room table and then disappeared into what Gail assumed was the kitchen.

A small person – a child, Gail figured, though they were gone too fast for her to say definitively – moved into the dining room and then ducked away again. Gail fidgeted in her seat. She had no desire to make anyone uncomfortable. She kept her eyes on the door frame and, when a little head peeked around the side, she smiled tentatively. She even waved a little. A little hand waved back, just a little wiggle of the fingers that clutched at the frame.

Holly was still thumping her way through the kitchen so Gail shifted in her seat, facing the child. She tilted her head to the side and waited, for the girl to come closer or for some sign that she should leave or apologise or introduce herself.

The girl peeked around the door again. She had big, brown eyes that blinked curiously at the guest in her dining room. Then came out her shoulders and, with hesitant steps, the rest of her body. She stood awkwardly a few steps away from Gail. Gail waved again. The girl was probably seven or eight. She had shoulder length brown hair held back by a cute pink floral headband. She had knobbly little limbs and odd socks.

"Hi," she said quietly.

The girls eyes dipped down to Gail's lips and then up to her eyes. She smiled.

"My name is Gail." That strange focus again, watching her lips until she finished talking. The girl nodded and then dashed out of the room. Gail sighed. That went well. She looked to the kitchen. If she left now, maybe Holly wouldn't even notice that she was gone. But then the girl was back, clambering up onto the seat opposite Gail and with a big art book. She grabbed a crayon and pushed the book over to the blonde after a few moments of scribbling.

Lucy, was all that was written on the page. Gail blinked.

"Are you Lucy?" she asked quietly, tapping the name and then pointing to the girl. She nodded quickly and, looking up from Gail's lips, smiled a big beaming smile. Gail smiled very slightly. She thought she understood what was happening. She took the crayon and wrote 'Gail' in block letters. And then, when that beaming smile split her lips again, revealing one missing tooth – what was it with her and attracting all these smiling people? It was exhausting – she doodled a tree and a cloud and a flower. Lucy drew a few stick figures and a horse.

It was as Gail was attempting to draw a dog, the little tail wagging, that she noticed Holly had returned. She was standing a few paces away, a bandage in one hand and an ice pack in the other, and worse than that…she was smirking.

"What?" Gail demanded, hunching protectively over her paper.

"Nothing. Nice dog."

"Thanks. Are you going to join us or are you going to be a weirdo and stand there the whole time?"

Holly rolled her eyes but handed Gail the icepack. "Put this on your face."

"I'm doing this because I want to," Gail said, "not because you told me to." The cold felt so good against her cheek and she closed her eyes. They didn't have icepacks at home. Pecks were supposed to nobly suffer through their injuries, she figured.

She opened her eyes and switched hands holding the icepack so that she could pick up her crayon again. Focused on the drawing, she almost missed Holly tapping Lucy on the shoulder. A few quick gestures from Holly and Lucy was sulking, pouting, packing up her things and trudging out of the room. Gail waved. Lucy waved back.

"That's my little sister." Gail nodded. The shape of the chin, colour of the eyes, and the smiling dimples had told her as much. "She's deaf." Gail nodded again. She'd gathered as much. "Okay." Gail looked up from the dog she was finishing and saw that Holly was watching her with a soft look in her eyes.

"What?" she asked, scowling.

"Nothing. How about we go over the test you did in class and I'll make up a plan for our sessions. Sound good?"

"Fine."

**I know I wrote a lot about Elaine but honestly I feel so strongly about her relationship with Gail. I'm familiar with it myself (it can seriously suck) and it's been really fun writing it. I hope you don't mind… Anyway, let me know what you thought. Reviews are awesome. Happy reading, readers :)**


	6. Chapter 6

**How The Light Gets In: Chapter Six**

**I don't own Rookie Blue.**

**Sorry it took so long to get to you – I've been working on other stuff. I hope it's okay. I'm not sure about this one. Please enjoy.**

_How often have I lain beneath rain on a strange roof, thinking of home. —Faulkner_

* * *

Gail liked Holly's house. It wasn't the same as hers – neither that old house she had come from, where she had grown and known its twists and turns and which switched turned on which lights, nor that new house she was growing into. This one, Holly's…it was different.

She had never entered a place before and _felt_ the way it belonged to someone. And though that belonging – that sense of familiar places and habits and wear and tear and warmth and knowing exactly where the tea was kept – wasn't hers, she did enjoy seeing what made it up and trying to understand how it was that they fit into their home. At the same time, she felt quite outside of it. More of a stranger than ever. Her observations, having been trained to always, always look and see beyond the surface, made Gail feel intrusive. Not for the first time, certainly, but she felt it more starkly this time. Why? All she knew was that this, here, with Holly? It was different. This was Holly and her sister. And that other presence who hadn't been mentioned yet but whom Gail saw in the empty coat hanger and the cold tea with the lipstick stain and the haphazard books on the coffee table. A mother.

They had yet to finish their first study session – Holly, apparently a nerd in every way, insisted on Gail completing a small test to see where she was sitting with the classwork – and with Holly gone to her room to find whatever she needed, Gail was free to look around the room.

She sat back in her chair and let her eyes drift.

Gail wasn't about to leave the dining room where she had been brought – she was too nervous and not nearly rude enough to go a wandering without permission – so she contented herself with the one room. The main feature, for Gail at any rate, was the wooden table. It sat heavy in the centre. Made of a light brown wood, she could see the scratches that had worn the table here and there, not too many, and a few faint rings of liquid marring the surface. She didn't mind. It looked authentic. Lived on. She found herself tracing one of the scratches and wondering how it had happened.

Down the other end of the table, a half dozen placemats sat alongside some coasters where someone had evidently dumped them. A drawing near it – crayons suggested it was Lucy's contribution.

Gail lifted her eyes slowly to the walls – painted a muted, pleasant shade of yellow that was cheerful but not an eyesore. Gail liked it. It made the black of the photo frames that covered the walls pop. She wanted to stand and look more closely but stayed as if locked in her chair. It would be odd, she thought, to do that. Intrusive. And also the events of the day had begun to sneak up on her and her muscles resisted movement. So she looked as best as she could from her seat.

Three photos were grouped together in the centre of the wall. They were in black and white and formal – professional, Gail noted. The largest one, in the middle, was a family portrait. Holly looked about fourteen. There was Lucy, holding Holly's hand and clutching a small toy to her face due to her thumb she had jammed into her mouth. And behind the girls were a tall man, with happy eyes and a large smile, and a woman who shared the shape of Holly's face but who was delicate, smaller than the gangly athletic girl Gail knew now. They could only be the girls' parents – a conclusion based more on the adoring smiles they were sending the girls in the photo than the similarities. To the left, in one of the smaller photos, Holly and Lucy were alone. Lucy in her sisters arms and both of them making silly faces. To the right, the man and woman alone, locked in a sweet embrace.

"Having fun?" Holly asked.

Gail blinked and looked away from the photos. She realised she had been staring for a long time, long enough for Holly to return, and a blush swept up from her neck. She ducked her head and focused on the scratch on the table, where her finger was still resting. Inside, she was kicking herself for not paying attention. She should have realised Holly had come into the room. Normally, Gail would shoot back some witty comment but all such comments had conveniently fled her brain and she was left mute, her nerves ratcheting upward by the second.

After a moment, Holly broke the tension. She moved toward the table and dumped the books and papers she had collected onto the table. In front of Gail she placed a few sheets of paper and a pencil. "Fill this test out. I'll mark it when you're done."

She didn't dare look up at the brunette. Her cheeks were still flushed, for one, and she might have been a little nervous that if she did look up and if she did something wrong then she would be thrown out. Elaine wouldn't be happy about it. Gail bit her lip. _She_ wouldn't be happy about it. She hadn't meant to offend Holly. Or annoy her. Or do something wrong. Had she done something wrong? Gail frowned and scratched away at the test, her pencil suffering the brunt of her confusion. She hadn't had nearly enough friends to know if she'd done something heinous.

Holly's chair scraped back about ten minutes into the test and Gail froze. Was this is? Had Holly come to a decision and was going to toss Gail out? Her fingers clenched down onto the pencil and, though her eyes were fixed firmly on the page, she followed Holly in her mind, listening as she stood and walked past Gail. Into the kitchen. Some cupboard doors opened and closed, a bump and a thump, then some rustling. Then footsteps again.

She paused by Gail's elbow. "Do you need some help?" she asked, seeing Gail was on the same question.

Gail shook her head no and let her breath out in a rush. When Holly placed the bowl between them and poured some chips into it, she relaxed a little more. It was still twelve minutes and several surreptitious glances at the reading Holly – she had her own study to do, after all – before she let herself take a small chip from the bowl. It _was_ placed exactly in the middle of the table, she reasoned. And she had told Holly she needed to provide snacks. When Holly didn't slap her hand away or look at her like she was a mannerless vagabond, Gail took another chip.

The bowl was a quarter empty when Gail laid down her pencil. The rustle of papers brought Holly out of her book, blinking. The girl glanced down at her watch. "You're done?" Gail nodded. "Oh. Okay that was quick. Give it here."

Gail shoved the papers across the table. She was afraid if she picked them up and handed them across, her hands would betray her with their shaking. And that wouldn't do at all. She really should have rethought this 'go to a near perfect strangers house' thing. She didn't know what to do while Holly looked through her answers but she knew she couldn't look through the photos again, not wanting to upset Holly, and she couldn't move so she just stared down at her hands in her lap and ate her way steadily through the chips.

* * *

"Umm okay." Holly pushed up those nerdy glasses of hers and frowned. "I don't want to be rude or anything…" she started and Gail froze. She took a fortifying breath.

"Out with it," Gail said, chomping down on a chip. "How many did I get wrong?" _Exactly_ how big of a failure was she?

"Yeah, that's the thing. None." Holly turned the page around to show a series of little ticks beside each correct answer. "Gail, all of these are right. Why are you here?" She smiled a little, evidently confused. "You don't need tutoring." Then she hesitated. "Can I ask what grade you got on your introductory quiz?" When Gail didn't answer straight away, she grimaced. "Was that totally rude of me?"

"No." Gail shifted in her seat and looked away from Holly, down at the paper. "I got a B plus," she said airily, not wanting Holly to see how much it shamed her to admit that. She also didn't want to see Holly look at her like she was an idiot, so she kept her eyes down and checked her nail polish to make sure it wasn't chipped at all.

"Really? Well that's not too bad. And don't forget, it's the first test of the year so it's not like they really expected you to remember stuff from last year," she said encouragingly.

"I didn't take it last year."

"What?"

"I didn't. Take this. Class. Last year," Gail repeated, slowing the words down.

"Really?" Holly sounded surprised and Gail looked up for a second. "You learnt all of this in three weeks?" Gail shrugged. "That's amazing. I know how much reading that is – the jump between standard and advanced is a lot more than people realise." Another shrug. "Okay well, why are you paying for a tutor if you already know how to study?"

"I'm not. My mother is." Gail paused, knowing she should stop there, but the next words just tumbled out. "A B plus isn't good enough. I need straight A's."

"Oh. Are you aiming for a scholarship or something?"

"No," Gail muttered. "Just perfection." She hadn't really meant for Holly to hear that but she did. And she laughed. She actually threw her head back and laughed. Gail stared at her as she worked her way down, grinning. When she registered Gail's perfectly serious expression, her smile faded a little.

"Oh. Are you serious?" Gail nodded slowly.

"Obviously."

"Well that's stupid," Holly declared. "Perfection is an impossibility. The idea that something can be perfect or can become perfect is flawed, in my opinion, given that everything organic is metabolically decaying in every moment and nothing can be more perfect or more alive or more complete than in its first moment of creation. Or, if you're talking about perfection in a certain field, there is no way that can be accomplished. We are always learning stuff every day. That's part of the fun of it," she said with a shrug. "You know that your brain forms neural connections between the segments in your brain. That never stops. You can always keep learning and thinking and because the brain, humanity, isn't static, it's also never possible to reach that point of so called perfection."

Gail pretended like that wasn't the most fascinating, most incredibly nerdy thing she had ever heard. It wouldn't do for Holly to know – and Gail's mouth twisted a little, surprised that she was even thinking it – that she thought she was fascinating. "Okay nerd, whatever you say. But this is what I know: you have to find a way to bump my grades up to an A minus. At least." She crunched on a chip. "Suggestions?"

"Keep up with your readings?" Holly volunteered weakly. "You don't have a problem with retention, obviously," she said with a wave to the test. "You probably just didn't know some of the material." She bit her lip. "Okay here's the thing. As much as I would love gobs of money for this, you don't really need a tutor."

"I would love to see you try and sell that idea to my mother. The B plus is proof enough that I do," Gail said.

"It's an anomaly, surely."

"Until I've received grades from my other classes, it would be prudent to think the worst," she said immediately.

"That's a bit pessimistic," Holly said lightly, propping her elbows on the table so she could lean her chin into her hands. "Okay. Revised. I don't think you need a tutor but until you get your grades back, I'll keep helping you. And after you do well, as I'm fairly confident you will, we'll talk about what that means." Gail blinked. She stole another chip. She didn't even bother disguising her affinity for snacks by this point, the bowl practically in her lap. "What do you think about being friends?"

"With a nerd like you? No."

"Ouch," Holly laughed. "Then what?"

"Why bother changing anything? Student and tutor. That way, if you annoy me too much, I can fire you."

"As if I would. I'm a model employee."

"I'm a harsh boss." Gail narrowed her eyes. Relented, just a touch. "What about study partners?" She held up a hand to stop Holly from talking and barrelled on. "_If_ I do well in my next bunch of assessment."

"I'll take it," the girl laughed. "It seems like the best I'll get from you."

"It's more than anyone else has," Gail grumbled, remembering the ban her mother had imposed on Chris and Dov and Chloe. She wondered if Elaine would raise the ban if she knew that Chloe was Staff Sergeant Best's goddaughter… and then she realised that would be worse and she would _have_ to spend time with Chloe.

"I feel special. Oh and don't worry. I'll wear you down. We'll be friends eventually."

"Yippee," came Gail's flat response. "I'm so excited. So are you going to teach me about science shit or am I going to have to find a new tutor?"

"You know, if we're just going to be study buddies, you don't have to pay me."

"Oh god no. Take the money. You need it for college and I like pissing off my mother and making her pay for unnecessary stuff is a really good way to do that." She hadn't meant to say that. Damn it. "We'll talk about money again later," Gail said, her eyes becoming hard and face unreadable quicker than Holly could open her mouth to talk.

"Okay." It was surprising how many nuances could be pushed into one simple word. It was at once relenting, backing off, understanding that Gail had revealed a touch too much in saying that about her mother – even if her slight overreaction had told Holly more than 'I like pissing off my mother' had – and it was calming and curious and letting Gail know that Holly knew when not to push. "Well, you can start with this chapter on the nervous system. The readings are good and at the end of the chapter," she said, flipping through the pages, "they make reverence to two volumes you can get from the library." Remembering how Gail felt about the library, she amended that statement. "And online. You can get ebooks that work just as well."

Gail nodded. "Okay."

"Do you need help in any other classes?"

Gail allowed herself a small smile. "No." She was proud of her A's and her smile grew, remembering that she held an exceptional grade in English and French.

"Is it okay if I study as well then? You can ask me whatever you want," Holly rushed to reassure her.

"Yes."

"Really?" Holly had thought this girl with the perhaps _mildly_ unreasonable grading standards would demand her complete attention and assistance. She saw a little flicker of something in Gail's expression. Humour, perhaps.

"Yes."

"Great." She didn't think twice about it then – duplicity, clearly, not in her blood. She dumped two enormous volumes on the table and poured herself over them, nose barely two inches from the pages, and lost herself in that world. Gail watched her, enthralled, for a good long time before she shook herself into awareness and focused on her own readings.

She would never admit this aloud but for once, completely by accident of course, her mother had done something right. Something good. Gail glanced up from her page, letting her eyes trace the girl opposite her. Something good, but Gail wasn't quite sure what it was yet.

* * *

There was the sound of a key in a lock and then Gail was up and out of her seat, standing. One hand was on her bag. Holly blinked up at her. It took the bespectacled girl a little time to rouse herself from the words to realise there was a rustling in the corridor, some bumping, a frustrated sigh, and then a woman in the doorway. She is that same small, delicate woman from the photos but now with a touch of grey in her hair and lines in the corners of her eyes. Warm, Gail concluded.

"Oh hello," greeted a cheery voice. "I didn't know you were having a friend over today, Hols."

Holly stood, moving to take grocery bags from her mothers' hands. Because confronted by those faces side by side, there was absolutely no doubt in Gail's mind that she was Holly's mother. Confirmed a moment later:

"Mom, this is Gail. I'm actually tutoring her. Gail, my mom."

"It's nice to meet you, Mrs Stewart. You have a lovely home," Gail said quietly, her head ducked so that her voice was directed somewhere to the vicinity of her shoes. She gripped her bag tightly.

With her head down, Gail missed the look that passed between mother and daughter, surprised and confused by the nervous and quiet girl. "It's nice to meet you as well. And thank you," she said with a smile. "But please, call me Anna." She tilted her head thoughtfully in a movement identical to her daughters. "Would you like to stay for dinner?"

"Oh. No. Thank you for the offer but I can't." Gail began to nervously inch toward the hallway and the two Stewart women took pity on her. Holly's mother stepped to the side and didn't comment when Gail moved so casually into the hall, somehow, despite the nerves that inexplicably surged inside her, stopping herself from lunging her way to the exit.

For her part, Holly broke into the conversation with a teasingly loud whisper, "You'd better not. It's meatloaf night and mom is _not_ the best cook. Run while you still can."

Gail looked up from her shoes just enough to roll her eyes at Holly's joke before giving Mrs Stewart – Anna, she put the name firmly in her memory – a quick smile. Then she almost did run from the house. She was already gone when Holly reached the door, keys in hand, remembering that she had driven Gail from the mall. Holly waited for a moment but there was no sign of her and she didn't have her number. So she closed the door with a heavy frown and retreated back inside.

"She's an odd girl," her mother commented when Holly joined her in the kitchen. Anna leant against the counter and pursed her lips, staring blankly at the fridge and thinking about their guest. Holly grabbed a glass of water and pushed up onto the side, letting her feet dangle against the cupboards.

"Yep." She took a long drink. "She's really weird," Holly said fondly.

"And you're tutoring her?" her mother asked, a knowing look forming in her eyes. Holly nodded. "Why does her name sound so familiar if you only started today?"

"Well," Holly began, "remember how a couple of weeks ago that girl came into my bookstore?"

"Oh yes," Anna sighed. She realised what it was then. She had guessed, when she saw the careful way her daughter examined the blonde girl, and knowing that this was the same girl that had brought Holly home in a huff – _her_ Holly, who had never squalled as a baby, who had barely thrown a tantrum, who had never involved herself in high school spats – well. Yes, she thought she knew what might be going on. "You'll have to invite her back," she said casually. "Want to help me make the meatloaf?"

"Help you? You mean do everything and then make sure you don't burn it while it cooks."

"Exactly." Anna patted her daughters cheek. "You're so smart," she teased.

Holly huffed and blew out her cheeks with faux annoyance. "Fine. But only because I love you."

* * *

If only Holly could have seen it. The difference between their homes, Gail thought. It was so completely foreign to her, to see how a mother could walk into her home and not bring a cloud with her. Her disdain or discontent hadn't hovered around her threateningly. The house didn't rumble with her presence. Holly hadn't done anything except smile and take her bags and tease.

Gail pushed open the door to her new house and took the stairs two at a time, nigh on sprinting to her room. Once there, she closed and locked the door. Then she paced.

Was it a good idea to keep up the tutoring? Perhaps Holly was right and she didn't need it. But there was her mother to consider and if she said she wanted her in tutoring, then there she would have to stay. But perhaps that was a test in itself. If she went to Elaine and explained that yes, she had failed but she could do better she _knew_ that she could and she didn't need a tutor to do that, would that be seen as success in Elaine's eyes? Would that finally warrant approval? But what about that strange peacefulness she felt when she had been sitting with Holly? She had wanted to tease her, just like she did with Chris and Dov, she had wanted to make her smile. She had wanted to hide away everything that was Peck and just be Gail. Did she even want to stop tutoring?

And what about that little girl? Lucy. Gail couldn't stop the smile. She had been adorable. And sweet, sharing her crayons with Gail. She strode over to her bag where she had dropped it on her bed and flipped through her book. It was there somewhere, she knew, and exclaimed a quiet 'aha' when she tugged the crayon drawing from the back of her book. She took in the drawings and the scrawled _Lucy_ and instantly folded the sheet and tucked it into her bedside drawer. It would be safe there. And she could look at it whenever she pleased.

Lucy, she thought again. Deaf. She wondered if the girl knew how to sign. A flush of purpose ran through Gail and she jogged downstairs into her fathers office. Her fingers skimmed over volumes and novels and journals until they came to a stop over a small book. Sign language. Her mother had tried to learn years ago but had given up in favour for the less complex police signals. They were "more appropriate" for her line of work, she had excused herself. Gail knew the woman just couldn't bear to fail at something.

But the book was there, in her hands, and that was something to be grateful for at least. She opened to the first page. Introduction.

**Okay you know the drill. Reviews please, let me know how I did. Also, I have most of the story planned, in a meandering, vague sort of way that constitutes my 'plans', but if there's something you would like to see there is plenty of free space and I'm happy to write specific Golly scenes. Happy reading, readers :)**


	7. Chapter 7

**How The Light Gets In: Chapter Seven**

**I don't own Rookie Blue.**

**You are all so lovely and I'm a horrible procrastinator so…enjoy!**

_Tell me again about the girl whose hands have no colour. Who hands are completely white. This time make them damned, or untouched, or have her open a red umbrella or point at some maple leaves and damned near cry.—_Rebecca Wadlinger

* * *

By the time Gail arrived at Holly's the next day, she was in a bad mood. Such a bad mood that it felt like it had seeped into her bones, her marrow, and she was a walking, talking, glaring bad mood. She'd caught two buses and walked what felt like an incredible distance to get to Holly's house and now that she was there, she had to refrain from pounding on the door even if that was what she felt like doing. She tapped the knocker once, then twice, and stepped back to wait. And if her eyes fluttered closed and she muffled a yawn, there was no one else there to see it so she could deny it ever happening.

"Gail." The door had flung open. "You're right on time." Holly was surprised and it showed in her raised eyebrows and the slightly uncomfortable pose that blocked the doorway. She had expected the odd girl to be late, for some reason. And now that she was here, on time, and the dining room was messy with Holly's things, she didn't know quite what to do with herself.

"Of course I am," Gail snapped and immediately regretted it. This was her home, she reminded herself. Be _nice_. But she didn't know how to be nice so she just washed her face clean of any discord and shrugged. "I'm amazing."

"Right, of course," Holly laughed, her expression opening from confusion. "Come on in."

Gail stepped in and dropped her bag in what she considered her place already – the seat she had been given the day before. Then she sunk into the chair and relaxed her arms, letting them hang limp on her lap.

"Do you have any food?" she asked. Her stomach felt like it was chewing itself to pieces. Not pleasant. Then came an extra twinge to her stomach – worry. She didn't want Holly thinking she hadn't eaten. Which she hadn't for a few hours. Or, god forbid, think that she _needed_ something. "I'm paying you for a reason, you know" she drawled.

"Sure. I got some more of those chips because you seemed to like them." Gail was glad the other girl had turned away and couldn't see the way her face flushed red. She hadn't meant to eat all of the chips but she'd been hungry and it just…happened that way. They were good chips though.

"Did you want something to drink as well?" she offered.

Gail stared at her, trying to decide whether Holly was being facetious. Then, when those eyes didn't flutter with insincerity, she nodded slowly. "Water. Please."

"Sure thing!" Holly sounded so energetic and perky and _happy_ that it made Gail sneer automatically. But that sneer slid right off her face after a yawn; she just didn't have the energy or the will to keep it in place. And that had to do, equally, with the fact that she was too tired to keep up the disdain and also that she didn't mind so much when nerdy Holly was energetic or perky. "Here you go," Holly said, dropping cup and bowl in front of Gail. "Hey, are you alright?"

Gail blinked at the girl. "Fine. Are we starting at chapter five?"

Holly nodded and Gail fished in her bag for the book before bending over it. Her arms stayed in her lap. Holly took in the girl – everything from slightly messy hair to eyes pillowed by purple, the slight twitch in her fingers when she reached up to turn the page. "You look really tired," she commented. When Gail froze and looked up at her with hard eyes, she regretted it. She hadn't wanted to put Gail on the spot or question her or anything like that. She just had a hard time keeping her thoughts to herself sometimes.

As for Gail, she had the opposite problem. There were a lot of things she could say, thoughts that hung heavy in her mind every hour of every day but she never once thought of saying them out aloud. Currently, all she could think of was how much she disliked exercise. Mostly, though, she disliked her mother. It had taken Gail almost fifty minutes to run the six mile that morning, which simply wasn't good enough. So Gail had run another two – mother's wishes were her commands. Plus, Elaine had been kind enough to examine Gail's report concerning the obstacle. Her own comments and corrections were written in red, spikey handwriting that near enough covered the seven pages. The range, following that already _thrilling_ morning, was hell on painful ribs and weak arms and missing the target twice was enough to draw pursed lips and disapproving eyes.

But Gail thought it might have been worth it. She hadn't slept, trying to cram as much new knowledge into her brain as she could and looking up videos on the internet had only helped so much and it had hurt her eyes.

"I'm fine," Gail responded after a beat. Holly had to just nod – not wanting to push – but she was surprised. Again. She couldn't get a read on this girl and that was strange. Normally – well, admittedly they'd only hung out twice – but in those two times, Gail had been a touch edgy but never as totally closed off as she had been this afternoon and in this moment.

Holly let the subject drop. She could feel that Gail wouldn't say anything else. And Gail, seeing that Holly had allowed herself to be absorbed in the study of osmosis, let her eyes lightly trace over the relaxed girl, examining her. She picked at the chips. Her hands, still shaking, hurt a little from the kickback of her gun so she wrapped them around the cool of the water bottle and forced herself to focus on the page despite the words slipping to and fro.

Then it was Holly's turn again to examine the other girl and she did, noting the way Gail's hands peeled at the label on the bottle, pressed the fleshy base of her palm against the cold plastic, hunched over her book, and smothered yawn after yawn. Plus, the crease in her forehead and the way that she thumbed under her eyebrows every minute or so pointed towards a fairly severe headache.

"Headache?" she asked quietly. Gail looked up at the intrusion on her study and then down at her book again.

"No," she denied. Oh, and she shrugged. Holly mustn't forget the shrug. It said, no big deal. It said, don't worry about it. Don't worry about me. But the frown was still there and Holly could practically _see_ the way the headache had made itself at home in Gail's head. "Don't worry about it."

Holly contemplated what she could do but it was a small list. She didn't want to push. She didn't want to annoy the girl or drive away a paying customer. But she did want to help Gail. It was certainly a quandary she found herself in. So she sat in her seat and was relieved when the choice was taken out of her hands.

"Oh hello," Gail was greeted after a few moments. "Gail, wasn't it?" Anna swept into the room. She dropped a kiss onto Holly's head and wrapped one arm around Holly's shoulders in a loose hug, front pressed to Holly's back. "Hi darling."

"Hi Mom."

"Hello." Gail had frozen in her seat, blindsided by the presence of Holly's mother. "Nice to see you again." The words shot out from stiff lips. "Thank you for letting me study here," she continued.

"It's not a problem." She ruffled her daughter's hair, prompting an impressive eye roll from Holly, and sat in the chair at the end of the table between Gail and Holly. "When did you get here? I didn't hear a car, I don't think." She looked out to the front door, as if the hallway held her memories, the answer to her question. Or perhaps she understood that eyes fixed on her face made Gail uncomfortable.

"Oh. I, uh, I walked." Gail retreated to her textbook, fiddling with the corner of a page.

"Again?" Her voice and expression registered disapproval and Gail fought against panic. "It's really not safe for a girl to walk by herself. Holly will drive you home tonight." Gail opened her mouth to disagree but Anna beat her to it. "I would have insisted yesterday, if I had known, but you ran out of here so fast. No matter. I'm sure she would love to drive you tonight. Wouldn't you, dear?" she extended to Holly. Anna's eyes made it clear to her daughter that there was only one right answer to her question. Holly's smile made it clear that she had only entertained one answer anyway.

"Yeah, of course!"

Gail stared at the black words in her textbook. They were strangely swimming on the page – this time not from exhaustion but from some foreign moisture in her eyes that was definitely not tears – and she blinked them clear. It was strange, the feeling of warring emotions. Most prominent was warmth. How strange it was that these people would care. Then came annoyance. They might care but she's used to doing things for herself; they shouldn't care because she would be just fine, she's a Peck, and she could take care of herself.

"Right. Okay," was all she managed to say. Obviously there was no way of getting out of the drive unless she called someone to pick her up and she didn't know who would do that for her. She hunched a little more over her book but only read one word in three. They faded in and out a little, making her queasy, and she had to press her eyes closed more and more frequently. Damn headaches.

A click in front of her made Gail flinch. Gun, she thought. Bomb, she thought. Opening her eyes, she saw two little pills and a glass. Stupid internship at the station, she chided herself. Thanks to her background and her job, she was always thinking the strangest things.

"For your headache," Anna said. She sat back down in her chair. Gail wanted to deny it. She couldn't. It was bad enough that she hadn't noticed the woman had left the room: it was bad enough that the other two had noticed her grimaces probably.

"Thank you," she said and downed the pills, chasing them with water. "It wasn't so bad though."

"Tell that to the way you popped them straight away," Holly laughed. She regretted it when Gail blushed and looked down at the table, tracing the grooves there. Holly and her mother exchanged another look, similar to the one they had shared the afternoon before, a mix of confusion and surprise and concern. They found themselves doing that a lot around this new addition. "But hey, why bother suffering through a little headache when we have Tylenol? That's what it's for, right?"

Gail nodded and shrugged. Holly returned to her book and Gail closed her eyes. Just for a moment.

"Hello darling," Anna said, prompting Gail's eyes to shoot open. There stood Lucy, arms wrapped tight around her mother's leg. She was smiling at Gail and the blonde smiled back warmly before she could remember things like polite emotional distance or the people who watched her. "Is it okay if Luce stays with you two for a bit?" Anna asked Holly, murmuring. "I have to start making dinner."

Holly shrugged and nodded. "It is okay if Lucy sits with us for a bit? I promise she'll be quiet," she said with a little grin. Gail nodded and Anna stood, lifting Lucy and plopping her in the seat she vacated.

_Be good_, Gail recognised in the signs Anna used. _They are _– and then a word Gail didn't recognise. Her mother brushed a fond finger down Lucy's cheek and disappeared into the kitchen, leaving the three girls at the table.

Holly hadn't even looked up again from her books. Gail watched her carefully for a few moments but Holly didn't take a break. Her eyes just devoured page after page and soon Gail felt comfortable enough to turn very subtly in her chair toward Lucy.

She bit her lip and then, _Hello_, she tried.

Lucy's eyes grew wide with delight and she quickly started signing to Gail but the blonde couldn't keep up. Watching the gestures and feeling perfectly inadequate, Gail had to shake her head despairingly. _Slow please I am learning_, she signed. It was a phrase she knew she should learn because otherwise the Stewart girls would leave her in their dust.

Lucy used then exaggeratedly slow signs but the way she bounced in her seat exposed how very excited she was that the pretty girl was talking to her the way she was used to talking. And had very clearly learnt – just for her!

Gail was signing _how was your day_? when a tan hand reached over and adjusted one of her movements. Just a little. Gail jumped, knocking her hand on the table and sending her glass sideways. There wasn't much water in it, luckily, but a tiny amount dribbled out onto the surface, raising a horrified blush in the girl and eliciting jarred movements and a dabbing sleeve to blot up the water. Finally, crisis averted, Gail settled in her chair again and met Holly's eyes. Holly, who was looking at her with curious soft eyes and, having taken in the whole incident chose to ignore it. Holly, who made the gesture Gail had been trying.

"It's like this," was all she said. Gail could see other words bursting against her teeth but Holly swallowed them and returned to her book. "Anytime you want to keep studying…" she prompted, teasingly.

Gail turned back to Lucy, who was making faces at her sister.

_I have to_ – she paused, not knowing the word for study. _Learn. Sorry._

_Okay. Will you_ – and then came a few signs that Gail didn't know. She frowned. Then she shook her head and signed for Lucy to repeat the question. She hadn't learnt these signs and so she turned to Holly.

"Umm," she broke the silence. "Holly?" The girl looked up. "What does this mean?" She repeated Lucy's signs and Holly followed them with her eyes.

"Will you draw with me later," Holly translated. Then she smiled, all teeth and happy eyes. "That's all she would talk about since she saw you yesterday. The nice girl drew a dog for me," she said and signed, laughing more when Lucy glowered crankily at her sister, realising what she was telling Gail, and kicked her foot toward Holly.

"So this is draw?" Gail asked, repeating the signs. Holly nodded and Gail tentatively turned to Lucy.

_Yes I will draw with you later_ – and Lucy didn't mind anymore that Holly had betrayed her, had told Gail that Lucy had gushed about her and pinned her drawing to the collection on her wall, she ran off with an identical beaming smile to her sisters into the kitchen, knocking on the wall to announce her presence.

"She has to do that because she's so quiet sometimes," Holly said, noticing that Gail had seen the knock and recognising the curious tilt of her head. "And you know, there's dangerous stuff in the kitchen for a quiet eight year old. Boiling water, knives, fire."

"Right." Gail nodded. "Okay." And, just like that, as if she hadn't amazed and surprised Holly, as if she hadn't let herself relax for a moment and show that she wasn't _all_ hard edges and quick tongue, and that she did actually have a very large soft spot for children, Gail drew back into herself. "Was there any extra reading to do for chapter five?"

* * *

A phone call interrupted them, fifteen minutes before the end of their session. Gail delved into her bag, surprised. Not many people called her. The number on the screen made her eyes widen and she stood immediately, answering the call.

"Sir?"

Holly looked up. Gail's tone was professional and curious and surprised. She leant her chin into her hand and watched the girl.

"Yes sir. Of course." A pause. "I'm not at home." She thought for a moment. "I can get to the mall fairly easily. One moment." Gail pulled the phone away from her ear and bit her lip. "Holly? Could you drop me at the mall?"

"Oh." She shook herself into the present and out of staring at Gail. "Yeah. Yes, of course."

Gail smiled tightly. "Thanks." Then that phone plastered itself to her ear again. "It's not a problem sir. I'll be there as soon as I can." A click ended the phone call and Gail dove for her books, shoving them into her bag.

"Oh," Holly said, realising. "You meant right now."

Gail froze. "Is that okay?"

"Yes!" Holly leapt up as well. She didn't want Gail to leave without her. It was stupid, perhaps, but she wanted to extend the time she spent with Gail. She grabbed her car keys and her phone, calling out a brief explanation to her mother. "Dropping Gail off!" she yelled. "Be back soon!" A faint yell came back in reply so Holly shrugged a shoulder at her study partner. "Ready?"

"Yes." Gail paused. "Um, about the money?"

"Oh don't worry about it," Holly waved off. "I know you said we'd talk about it later and now is later and _I _decree that since I'm pretty much not teaching you anything, you don't have to pay me." She brushed past Gail and opened the door. "After you, partner."

Despite wanting to extend their time, Holly had little to say now that she actually had. And Gail just texted her mother an explanation of her own, then another text to Dov and Chris saying a simple 'still alive, stop bothering me' and then sat in uncomfortable silence. She fiddled with the straps of her bag. Then she thumbed through her wallet and prepared some money. She rolled it into the cup holder next to her quietly and then, when Holly pulled up outside the mall, she dashed from the car.

"See you tomorrow?" she blurted out. Then, appalled that she would actually offer someone any of her time, she said "Or else" and walked very quickly in the opposite direction, disappearing around the corner.

A few seconds later, Holly's phone beeped with a text and she checked it.

_Nerd. Money is in the cupholder. _

Holly checked the spot, frowning, and shook her head when she saw sixty dollars sitting there.

_That's way too much money_, she sent back.

_No. Two sessions at twenty five. _

_That's only fifty._

_Ten for snacks. I expect premium snacks. You're not a very clever nerd, nerd. _Holly huffed an indignant laugh.

_And you aren't a very studious student. Skipping out?_

_Better things to do,_ Gail returned. Holly watched then as the little phrase appeared. 'Gail is writing' flashed up on her screen. And then it was gone. And then back again. Holly could practically feel Gail's indecision – texting, backspacing, texting what was probably exactly the same message again – and it made her grin and shake her head. She held her phone in her hand and waited. _Tell Lucy I'll draw with her tomorrow_. And then_, If that's okay. Whatever_.

_Will do_, Holly typed back. Leaning over, she dropped her phone into the glove box and pulled her car out of the park. Driving down the street, she passed a police vehicle, which a very familiar platinum blonde head was stepping into. Needless to say, Holly didn't manage to concentrate on her study very well that afternoon. Her mother watched her curiously but Holly just stared and frowned and mumbled to herself confusedly. There were too many questions running through her mind. What had Gail done? Or, worse, was something wrong? Had someone been in an accident? And why did she care so much? Why was the idea of Gail being arrested, or sad, or worried, why did it make her stomach twist itself in knots?

She stayed awake long into the night, staring at her ceiling, and wondering if she was allowed to text the other girl. Tomorrow, she told herself. If Gail didn't turn up to their session, she would text her then.

* * *

"Peck," Best called out, seeing the girl striding into the station. She jogged up the steps and into his office, standing at attention. Traci and Andy were with her, and Oliver and an unfamiliar face – 6579, Williams, hard face not unkind, curious, stern – were waiting as well. "Sorry to call you in for the second time today," he said to start.

Gail swallowed. Had she done something wrong? Oliver had been the one to call her, Andy picked her up at the mall, but she wasn't sure what she was doing. Only that she was there to help. "Is something wrong, sir?" she asked. A quick glance to his face to see if she could learn something from his expression. It was thoughtful but not angry so she decided she hadn't done anything too horrific.

"No. We have a situation. There's a kid in holding and we can't get him to talk."

"Torture was made illegal, apparently," Oliver laughed. Best turned a sharp glance on the friendly man, who sighed and held his hands up in surrender. Not a time for jokes. Got it.

"I heard from Nash and McNally that you had a good head on your shoulders. We thought maybe you'd be able to get him to open up."

"You…think he did something, sir?"

"We know that he's part of a gang that has been terrorising shops up and down York. We think he might have been present at a murder the gang was involved in," Best shared. Gail blinked. "Are you up for it?"

"I, what if, but," she was starting to panic quietly. She crossed her arms and gripped her elbows tightly. "I'm not a police officer," she finally said.

"No, kid, you're not. But that's great. We need someone that doesn't scream 'cop' at him, someone who can get him to open up. Maybe talk a little." Oliver nodded to her reassuringly. "And you're the quickest kid on the block. Plus, you've been taught how to do this kind of stuff since you were in diapers, am I right?"

Gail nodded reluctantly. "You think I can do this?" she asked him, very very quietly. She tried to ignore the fact that everyone else in the room could hear her, and focused on his kind eyes with the laugh wrinkles at the edges and those eyes that looked one hundred per cent certain.

"Yes."

"And this is important?"

"Yes."

"Okay."

Best shifted in his seat, sitting back to examine the twig of a girl. Williams didn't do anything quiet as obvious in her surprise but she did blink. Oliver clapped his hands and grinned at the girl he felt like he should be adopting. And Traci and Andy shared wide grins of pride – she was _their _intern – and relief because they did need this done and unfortunately no one else could do it.

"Very well." Best sat up and nodded to Williams. "If you'll go with Nash and Williams, they'll get you wired up. Johnson is in booking," he said to the room in general. "He'll keep an eye out – he'll be in with the computers which is just one room away so if anything goes wrong he can be there quickly. Okay?" Gail nodded stiffly. "Shaw and Williams are on primary for this so they'll be a few rooms down listening to the audio recording. I assume McNally and Nash will be there with them, yes?" He sounded mildly disapproving but understood their desire to keep an eye on the girl they had semi-adopted. "How are you feeling about this, Peck?" he decided to check, one last time.

Surprisingly, Gail firmed her features and gave him a nod. Her shoulders relaxed and her stance look grounded. Steady. Oliver smiled slightly. There was no doubt in his mind that she could do this and it seemed like she had chosen to follow that and put doubt out of her mind. At least in front of Staff Sergeant Best.

"I can do it, sir," she said.

"Alright then." Best tapped the table and a nod dismissed them, sending them spilling out into the precinct.

"This way, Peck," Williams barked. Fetching the wire and tape, she approached a now slightly shaking Gail, who backed away despite herself. Traci, standing right behind Williams, caught Gail's eyes with her own and she looked so calm and confident that Gail shucked her shirt when the woman asked her to and ignored scrutinising eyes and cold fingers. "My name is Noelle," Williams said, tone relaxed and almost soothing.

"Gail," she replied.

"Good to meet you. Good of you to do this too," the woman said. "Couple of things – don't come up with some complex backstory."

"Don't pretend to be someone else. Stick to the truth as much as possible," Gail said, already nodding. She knew that. Williams looked up from where she was weaving the wire through the front of Gail's bra and, was that? Did she look impressed? She looked back at Traci over her shoulder and Traci shrugged.

"I told you she was good. Totally ready for this," she said.

"I'd hope so, being a Peck and all," Noelle muttered, returning to her job. Traci scowled at the woman's back and, looking up and meeting Gail's eyes, she shook her head, silently telling the girl to ignore her. It was too late.

"Right," Gail said. "It's in my blood." It was exactly the kind of thing that her mother would say to her and the thought filled her with dread because if she failed, if she couldn't do this, then she wasn't just failing her friends or the precinct. She would be failing her family and somehow, incredibly, managing to fail despite having every advantage, against every instinct and knowledge that was embedded in her very genetic code, and that made it a supremely crushingly bad failure. And Gail was sure that she could manage that big of a failure.

Noelle left her when the wire was in place, having checked it quickly, and told Gail to get dressed. Traci was to cuff her and take her into holding. Approaching the girl, Traci bent a little, dipped her head so that she could look Gail in the eyes.

"Hey," she said.

"What?" If asked, Gail would say she was getting in character. Bitchy Gail. Stick to the truth, right? Nothing to do with the way her heart was shivering in her chest and her stomach was full of rocks and iron.

"We're really proud of you. Me and Andy. Oliver too." Gail snorted. "Shut up, we are. You didn't let this thing scare you or if you did," she said – too knowingly, Gail thought – "you didn't let that stop you. Andy and I are so glad you're our intern." She leant in. "These other guys got someone – Gerald or Duncan or something and he is just," she shook her head. "Useless," she mouthed, not wanting the comment caught on tape. They shared conspiratorial grins and Traci spun the cuffs mindlessly in her hands.

"Traci?" Gail said after a moment.

"Yeah?"

"If I can't do this," she started. Then she couldn't finish. She let wide eyes and the fear shining through them do the talking for her.

"Then we'll figure it out. This whole thing, this whole operation? It does _not _rest on your shoulders. We would never do that to you. I'm not going to lie to you – this _is _important." Gail nodded. "But you don't have to worry. Just do your best, Gail."

"I… Thanks." She felt stupid and vulnerable saying it but Traci gave her a bright smile and a nod and she didn't feel so bad anymore.

"Anytime. You ready?" She placed her hands on Gail's shoulders at the nod, looking down at the girl. "I'm going to put these cuffs," she lifted them and Gail hid a gulp, watching light glint on silver, "on you and we're going to go in through the garage. Then I'm going to put you in the holding cell. Then you do your stuff. Got it?"

"Yes ma'am."

"Alright then." Traci snapped the cuffs around Gail's wrists and then, before her disbelieving eyes, Gail seemed to transform. Not entirely. No, she was 'sticking to the truth as much as possible'. She just…accessed a part of her she tried not to around the station. The her that was a little more off-kilter, a little more wild and less sure. A part of her that was angry and dark. She seemed to pull into herself. She rolled her shoulders and set her face into a hard, mulish expression. When Traci gestured for her to lead the way, then placed a hand between Gail's shoulders to push her forward, Gail glowered at the ground and dragged her feet. Traci would have been amused by Gail's surprising talent at acting if she weren't so thankful that maybe she would rock this whole scenario.

"Hey Johnson," Traci greeted the uniform in booking.

"Nash. What have you got for me?"

Traci sighed and shot Gail a contemplative look. There was another level to it though – a secret, silent agreement that they were going to make a scene. Catch the boys attention. "I caught her pickpocketing. None of the wallets were hers though so I don't have a name." Gail smirked at the floor. "Think that's funny?"

"A little bit," the girl nodded.

Traci sighed, shook her head, and shrugged. "Is it okay if I put her in holding until I find someone who will claim her?"

"Sure thing," Johnson agreed, giving Traci a sympathetic nod and then turned a hard stare on Gail.

"You'll be waiting a long time," Gail taunted Traci. "No one cares about me."

"Someone will."

"Right. Well, when you find them, would you tell them something for me?" Traci waited a beat before nodding, reluctant. "Tell them they're doing a super crappy job at showing it if they 'care about me'," she said, complete with sarcastic air quotes. "Now, could I get out of these?" Gail jangled the cuffs and Traci steered her into the cell, removing the cuffs before locking the door.

"Behave yourself," she ordered her, getting a lazy salute in return.

Traci exited holding – Johnson in booking moved to the next room, working on the computers in there and giving Gail space to work, letting the boy relax without the worry of a cop overhearing – and she ran to the room where the audio was set up. Noelle, Oliver, and Andy were seated around it already. Oliver offered the latecomer a bag of chips and she settled into the chair next to Andy.

"You ready?" He was beyond excited. "I can't wait to see what Baby Peck's got in her."

"Twenty bucks she gets him to confess in less than fifteen minutes," Noelle said with a laugh. Both Andy and Traci raised their eyebrows – they hadn't thought that Noelle had been much impressed by Gail. "What?" she grinned. "She didn't need coddling. She needed some fire put in her," was her pronouncement, leaning back with folded arms.

Oliver, meanwhile, sucked on his teeth. Thoughtful. "You know what, Williams? I will take that bet." Noelle looked surprised that he, staunch supporter of all things Gail Peck, would take it. He grinned. "It's not that I don't have faith in our girl. I just think she's gonna ease into it. Make him think she's on his side and then _bam_!" He clapped his hands together. Andy jumped. "So. Twenty bucks, was it?"

Noelle sighed. "I think you're right. Dammit."

"Ah but you already made the bet. So bet."

"Bet," they agreed, shaking hands.

"McNally," Shaw called out. "You're witness. Hold her to that when she loses, okay?" Andy nodded quickly at Oliver's order…but then gulped when Noelle fixed her with a glare.

"Uh…"

"Oh relax, McNally, I'm just playing with you." There came a crackle, a sigh, from the audio and Oliver flapped his hands for silence.

"_Shh. _It's starting!"

* * *

Back in the cell, Gail tried to get comfortable. The seats were hard and cold and she was still bruised. Which was probably the real reason she had been asked to do this, she realised. She already looked dangerous and out of control with a bruise splashed across her cheek.

But those were dangerous thoughts. She heard them and, hearing them, pushed them away far enough that then and there they wouldn't affect her, her performance, mindset, whatever. She didn't need it. She sunk back into that mindset she had begun – Gail Peck, juvenile delinquent, badass – and she rolled her head on her neck, trying to crack that annoying tension that sat at the base of her neck. When it made a satisfying pop, she settled back again and folded her arms across her chest, closed her eyes without even looking at him huddled in the corner him, and tried to go to sleep.

She sighed. Scratched her cheek. Looked the epitome of couldn't-care-less and so when he said a gruff, "hey", she just sighed.

"Fuck off."

In the other room, Noelle frowned. "She could blow it," she mused. Three heads shook their instant no's.

"Nope,"

"Not a chance,"

"Peck knows what she's doing," they said, voices overlapping. Noelle blinked in the face of their certainty.

"Okay. But we _do_ need to figure out how much time to give her before taking her out of there."

"As much as she needs," Oliver nodded. "We can hold him for another thirty hours so," he shrugged and repeated himself. "As much as she needs."

The conversation dropped off then and four pairs of ears listened closely to the sounds of rustling clothes and then tentative conversation.

"Hey," the boy said again.

Gail's shoulders tensed and then one cold, angry blue eye popped open. "Do you not know what 'fuck off' means?" she bit out. "Do you need me to say it slow or something?" Spitting out the words, Gail took the time to examine him. He was white. Sloppily dressed, not much older than fourteen or fifteen, a home inked tattoo crawling up his bicep, lank hair swept across his forehead, holding himself like he might be a bit bruised – honestly, he looked like he wasn't having much fun. He looked young and bruised and not at all the tough guy he was trying to project.

"Fine," he muttered. Gail wondered if maybe she'd pushed too hard, pushed up a barrier she couldn't pull down without looking suspicious. But she was in luck. He _was_ young – and lonely, evidently. "What are you in for?" he said after a few minutes of silence.

She narrowed her eyes. Then, heaving a sigh, gestured up to her face. Her lips quirked in a smirk. "What does it look like?" He nods.

"The lady cop mentioned pickpocketing." Gail shrugged. "That's cool."

"That's called paying the bills," she snarked back. His face fell. "What? Don't pity me," she spat.

"I wasn't, it, I didn't mean," he stammered. Gail could practically see him racing to try and fix it. Perfect. He was indebted to her, emotionally at least, if she forgave him the misstep.

"Whatever," she growled. After a minute, "You?"

"Me? Me what?"

"You want to talk about your feelings?" she asked sweetly and he looked at her, shocked still, until her façade dropped to reveal a darkly laughing face and he realised she'd been joking. "Fuck, kid, you're killing me." The crude word felt right there, cracking on teeth and pushed out as an attack against an already near-shattered child. A child that flinched at her words. A little more, Gail knew. Just a little more. "I meant what are you in for?"

"Oh. Oh! Shop lifting." He leant back against cold walls, relieved. "A bunch of DVDs and stuff." Another laugh then made the boy bristle. "What?"

"Nothing. Just, you know, what for? You're not poor," she said with a nod to his watch. In truth, the watch was the only expensive thing about him. Stolen, most likely. But he took that up, what she offered, and ran with it.

"So what? You don't have to be poor to do stuff." He crossed his arms stubbornly. Childishly, really, she thought with a glance at his child-soft jaw and cheeks. "And what would you know anyway? You're not poor." His really were well-trained eyes, scoping out her shoes and cardigan, which were indeed on the higher end of the scale. "What bills would you have to pay, rich kid?"

"Listen here, you little shit, you don't know _anything,_" Gail snarled, sitting up fiercely fast, eyes flashing, muscles taut and neck tense with anger. He scooted away slightly, right into the corner of the cell. Her jaw clenched as she ran through responses in her head and, nabbing one she thought would do, she used it. She let herself back down again. She let herself look down at her feet and rub her sore cheek and sigh. "Sorry," she mumbled.

"It's okay," he offered her quickly.

"Nah. It's…" she shrugged. "Whatever. You know? It's whatever. Sometimes I'm hungry," she said with a look that meant not that there wasn't enough food in the kitchen or on the table but that she wasn't allowed to eat that food, that food wasn't for her. "And I have to get to school and shit like that so, yeah. Whatever. Got to get money somehow." She closed her arms across her chest, too vulnerable. But she had to keep talking because she felt him wavering on the edge of honest and so she opened up a tiny bit more. Someone in her family. Not her mother, she decided. She was afraid she would be _too_ honest. Make it her father, then. "He doesn't really give a shit about me. Except to make sure that I'm getting good grades. Push yourself harder," she mimicked a man's voice, "Do better. You're a disgrace to this family." She laughed. "Whatever, right?"

He nodded, conciliatory. "My dad tried that shit with me. Gave me a shiner that lasted for like a week."

Gail grimaced. "What did you do?"

"Ran out of there, didn't I? Made some friends," there he touched the amateur tattoo, "and we do alright."

"With shoplifting?"

"Sure. You just walk in and grab whatever you want and walk out again, cool as anything."

"Bullshit," she said after a moment. "You're a twitchy little thing. I bet you're in here for jaywalking or something lame like that," she teased lightly. Let him spill the beans. Let him offer it up to her on a shoplifted silver platter.

"I'm not bullshitting. It's easy."

"So easy you got caught?"

"Well yeah but that was 'cause this guy had crazy security. I've done it a bunch of times before. Usually it's, like, little stores. Groceries and TV stuff and cameras, you know?" He glanced over out at Johnson but the man was swinging lazily in his chair in the next room, too far away to hear. He continued. "But last week a couple of guys held up a liquor store and shit," he whistled through his teeth, "we got, like, a whole bunch of booze and the dude had two, three grand in his safe. It was awesome."

Gail made her face appropriately awed and sat up straight. "Huh." Her eyes skated over the boy appraisingly. "That's pretty cool, I guess." Those words, plus her undivided attention, made him flush and smile hesitantly. "Do you, like, share it or something?"

"Yeah. Two of the guys started our group. Nicky and Jack."

"Brothers," Oliver told the listening rookies. "Nicky and Jack Conrad. Ringleaders of this small time gang."

"They get half of everything but we get to share the rest. I have like ten of these," he said, shaking his wrist with the watch sitting pretty on it. "Bunch of other stuff too. We fence it to these guys whenever. Give us a pretty good deal. You know," he said sympathetically, "if you need to sell something. To get out."

Gail touched her cheek again, thoughtfully. "Thanks."

"They're not family, you know. If they do that to you." He glowered down at his hands. "They think they know everything and they're better than us but they don't know anything. My friends, they get it. They get me. We're a real family, looking out for each other." He scratched at the tattoo again. "They'd never hurt me." He didn't sound all that assured.

"Sounds awesome. Sounds like exactly what I need actually. Maybe I should join up with you guys when I get out of here. Whatever I want, whenever I want. And no one gets hurt," she said lightly. When his face clouded over, she paused. "Kid?"

"My name's Devon," he murmured.

"Okay. Devon then." She stood and very slowly moved so she was sitting on the same bench as him, on the same stretch of wall. Still with distance between them, but closer. She nudged him with her booted toe. "Everything okay?"

In the other room, the officers held their breath. This was it.

Noelle looked down at the timer on her phone. Fourteen minutes and fifty-eight seconds. Fifty-nine. Fifteen minutes. She scowled. Damn.

"Don't."

Gail frowned. She nudged him again. "Don't what?"

"Don't join up with us." He looked up with dark eyes. "People _do_ get hurt." He grabbed her arm and, when she winced, he twisted his fingers into the fabric of her sleeve instead. "I thought…it was okay, you know? 'Cause they weren't hurting me. And it was fine because it was just some watches from a rich guy and it was food from the store and they got plenty more, you know?" Gail nodded. "But then Nicky's like," Devon swallowed thickly and his voice, when he spoke next, was hoarse with strain. "It wasn't enough, you know? I think…" He pulled away and lowered his face until Gail could only see the top of his head.

"Kid?" she asked quietly. "Come on. You can tell me." There was a violent shake of his head no and Gail re-evaluated. Maybe she would have to do the talking for him. "Something bad went down, yeah?" she guessed. He stayed very still. "You know how I got this bruise?" He didn't look up but they both know she was talking about her cheek. "I mean, I got plenty more from all kinds of things. _Family_," she spat, "included. But this one?" She touched it gently. "I got this one for my friend."

"He hit you?"

"Nah. He was getting beat. Really bad." Gail found herself grinning at the memory of that hulk staring dumb at her and her making him apologise. "I walked right into the middle. The guy popped me one in the face – pow!" she said, miming the punch, "so I grabbed him," she was re-imagining it, embellishing it and enjoying the embellishments all comic-book worthy explosions and dust clouds and block letters _bam _and _smash_, "and smashed his face into a wall. And I kicked him in the balls." She could see enough of Devon's face – him uncurling a little to hear her story – to see his wince.

"What happened?"

Gail paused for a moment and allowed fear to creep into her voice. "I got arrested. I got myself arrested 'cause I'm scared to go home." She linked her fingers tight and clutched until the knuckles went white. "I think my da- my father. I think he'd kill me."

"Really?"

She nodded.

"I'm scared," Devon said after they sat in silence for a long moment. "I think Nicky did something bad."

"Is that why you got caught shoplifting?"

He grimaced. "Yeah. I was jumpy. Out of it. I didn't want him to, to,"

"Hurt you?"

"_Kill_ me." Devon's eyes narrowed, focused on something he could see imprinted on his retinas. "I think he would really kill me."

She forced a frown, fought back excitement. "You said this guy, this Nicky. You said he was your real family though."

"Yeah well my real family had no problem kicking me whenever, did they? Why would this one be any different?" he spat. It contrasted with the way he cowered closer to her slightly, hands shoved deep into his pockets. "Nicky had a gun. He got it somewhere, I don't know. But when, he kept trying to get more, you know? More money, more jewellery. So he mugged this lady and she started screaming and we told him to let it go, there was no one around, right?" His eyes were wide with please-believe-mes and Gail nodded. "But he wouldn't listen and…just, don't join. Alright? You gotta find a real family. That don't do no crazy shit."

"Devon? What did Nicky do?"

"I think…I was there. Around the corner. I was the lookout." Gail nodded again. Her neck was getting tired, she thought distantly. "And she started screaming and I looked around and Nicky had his gun to her head and he was telling her to shut up and all we wanted was her purse, you know? I don't know why she didn't give it up." Devon swallowed. "He shot her."

In the other room, sighs of relief were shared with congratulations and high-fives.

"Shit."

"Yeah."

Gail reeled – this boy, this _boy_ no more than fifteen, had just told her that his pseudo-brother had shot a woman. She had found that out. She had gotten him to talk. She supposed that any minute after that, Traci or Andy would come by to pull her out.

"Devon," she said, knowing that she actually wanted to do something good as well as right. "Shit, man." Words never really worked in her favour.

"Yeah." He rubbed a hand over his face. "I don't even know why I'm telling you all this."

"'Cause we're both messed up," she said, faux-cheerful. "And locked in a room smaller than my closet. And I'm incredibly good looking." He laughed and Gail didn't comment on the streak of a tear or two. He rubbed at them anyway with the back of a hand.

"That's probably it."

"Alright, pickpocket," Traci called from outside the cell. "You're up. Let's go." Before Devon's eyes, it seemed as though his cellmate transformed. Any vulnerability she had shown with him tucked itself away and she smirked at the officer. He found himself feeling proud, almost honoured, that she had shown him. And so he too found himself smirking at Traci. He was superior. He had seen the real… she hadn't mentioned her name, actually. But he _had_ seen her. The real her.

He, of course, didn't realise that his words were playing back to detectives, or that he was about to be called into an interrogation room and his words would fill the room again, and that he would be asked to speak out against the rest of his gang especially Nicky. All he knew what that an unfathomably pretty girl had sat next to him for the better part of an hour and he felt lighter.

"Hey!" he called out, standing to lean on the bars. Gail turned to face him. "Don't join them!" he told her again. She saluted him mockingly; only, her eyes stayed serious because as much as _she_ might have been playing a role, he hadn't and he cared enough to make sure she didn't make the mistakes he had.

She put it out of her mind, removing the emotional aspect of the job as Traci detangled the wire from her and her clothes and, when they reached the door where tense shoulders had leaned and curious ears had listened to the whole thing, Oliver encased her in a hug.

"Oh my god, Peck! You did amazing!"

"Why don't I ever get a hug, Shaw?" Andy complained. "Oh I see how it is. Only Peck is good enough for a hug." She huffed and crossed her arms but made a point to wink at Gail and give her a nod and a quiet 'good work'.

Gail allowed herself a smile. She'd done police work. She'd done police work and she hadn't been a massive fuck up. Her mother would be proud.

**Sorry. I did exactly 2% editing so I'm sure that spelling mistakes and grammar errors abound. My fault entirely. Regardless, I hope you enjoyed it. Please let me know – I'm a sucker for reviews. Happy reading, readers :)**


	8. Chapter 8

**How The Light Gets In: Chapter Eight**

**I don't own Rookie Blue.**

**Thank you so much for the reviews and follows. It really means a lot to me. I was cranky tonight so I decided to write to calm down so you get an extra chapter fairly soon. I hope you enjoy your gift. **

_fire stop thief help murder save the world—e.e. Cummings_

* * *

Gail didn't see her mother that night. She made her own way home, pretending that the sounds of rustling trees, that the coughs or low murmurs of distant strangers, that the hum of vehicles she didn't recognise didn't make her anxious.

She practically dove into the house. There was no one following her; there was little to no reason at all to be afraid. But she was. Gail locked the front door and then, her anxiety not fading as she thought it might with the heavy wood closed behind her, she moved from window to window shutting and locking them. No one was home. Her mother's car was still gone from the garage and her father's study was empty. So she turned on a few lights and they helped a little. They dismissed much of the yawning shadows but did nothing to dispel those few lingering spaces where the darkness, stubborn, flickered. She made a point not to look at them, into them, and ignored her imagination when it conjured all manner of fearful things.

It was far from the first time she had been left alone but it didn't get any easier.

She had a routine for nights like these: close the house, take food from the fridge, hide in her room and try to sleep. But the fridge was empty. Completely devoid of anything appetizing – they had a few wilted sticks of celery and mustard. The frozen pizza Gail had hidden was gone. Bone-deep exhaustion hit her and she slumped against the open fridge, staring into its dim-lit depths. Her forehead thumped against the door and she leant on it, using it to brace herself. A tear was brushed away with the back of a hand. Then she shook her head hard, grabbed a bag of trail mix from the pantry, slathered the celery sticks with peanut butter, and took two apples from the fruit bowl. Another fruitful endeavour to feed herself.

The hope that someone had come home in the night – waiting for her, wanting to talk or congratulate her or do _something_ to show that she wasn't just an extra body around the house that they actually cared – was shot to pieces pretty quickly. She knew no one was home. It was a feeling. She checked anyway.

She went on her run. Eight miles. Forty-eight minutes. It was incredible and for some reason she hoped that the run alone would be enough to bring her mother out from some hidey-hole and nod her approval but she didn't. There wasn't a note on the counter or a blinking message on the answering machine. Just an empty home and, oh right, no one to drive her to the range.

In a decision that looked sudden – jerky movements and grinding teeth – but really, Gail realised, had been building for a long time, Gail grabbed her duffel bag and threw some clothes into it. Anything necessary to get through the weekend, she threw in. After a moment, she took out the drawing Lucy had given her and tucked it into her pocket. Then school bag and this new, bulky home on her shoulder walked out of the house with her. Following her mother's example, she didn't even leave a note.

* * *

She hit the range, taking out any latent range with every forceful bullet that shot from her hands. Chief Tim – he had a last name but he was her godfather and Gail had known him since forever so, to her at least, he was Chief Tim – was there. He watched Gail shoot for half an hour and, when her session was over, watched her dismantle her gun with a speed he hadn't seen for a long time. When she immediately put it back together and lifted the weapon, slamming the button next to her to start all over again, he interrupted.

"Peck!" he bellowed. She turned. With a gesture, he got her to lift the ear guards off and away and lay her gun down safely. He pulled her into a short hug, making her tense but then respond by touching his back lightly. "Heard about your work yesterday. Excellent job!"

Gail flushed with pride. He reminded himself that this was a teenager – scary proficiency with a gun or not, that was a teen with shyness written into her flesh, a ducked chin and a foot hooked behind her ankle.

"Thank you, sir." Her eyes wanted to fix themselves on the floor but she forced calm and strength and met his eyes. He was smiling kindly and that made it easier.

"And your shooting is top notch. Who taught you?"

She floundered for a moment. "Officially, sir? My father. When I was sixteen."

A grin stretched over his lips and he crossed his arms, fixing her with a 'tell me the truth' look. "And unofficially?"

"Steve, sir. When I was ten."

"That's what I thought," Chief Tim laughed. He wandered over to examine her last dummy sheet. The tears were centre mass, tightly grouped. He nodded. "Are you thinking about going the force, Gail?"

She froze. _Yes sir_! was the answer fighting to exit her mouth. Contrarily, she pressed her lips tighter closed. It wasn't _her_ answer. Despite the thrill of yesterday, the mixed satisfaction of solving a puzzle and hopefully of helping that boy Devon, she wasn't ready to dedicate her life to being a cop. She just knew that it was what was expected and that expectation rankled.

"I'm not sure yet, sir," she said very quietly. The back of her neck itched and she imagined that somehow, somewhere, her mother had heard that admission. "I'm thinking about it."

"Excellent, excellent." Chief Tim nodded again, cheerful. "Take your time, Gail. Make sure it's the right choice. It's a damn fine career and I know you'd make a damn fine cop, if that's what you want. Especially with that shooting I saw there," he said, pulling a smile from Gail. She hadn't been praised this many times in so quick a succession in, well, ever. "But make sure it's the right choice for _you_," he concluded, clapping her on the shoulder.

"Yes sir. Thank you, sir." It was much easier to meet his eyes then and she saw that they were kind and shrewd. "Would you…like to shoot a bit? With me?"

"Absolutely! I should warn you though," he said, waving a hand to the desk so they would get out his gun. "I'm a bit of a sharpshooter. Best in my year. One a few awards."

"I'm better," she said with a shrug.

"Oho! Alright then, Peck. Ready to put your money where your mouth is?" He grinned fiercely at her. "I'll race you. First round speed, second round accuracy. Loser pays for lunch. Bet?"

"Bet."

* * *

"You can stop teasing me now."

"No, just a little bit longer. Please." A sigh was the only answer to that. "Oh come on, Chief. Relax. Be proud. You weren't bad…for an old man."

"Hmph." His moustache quivered in exclamation – outrage mixed with amusement. She had certainly lightened up in the last hour, since she had thoroughly kicked his ass at the range and proceeded to fill her belly on his dime. He wondered at the heavy, bulging bags she had lifted into his boot but hoped that she would tell him if she needed something. If something was wrong. "You know, I can't decide whether I want to brag to everyone that my goddaughter can shoot better than I can, or keep it quiet."

"If you want to keep it quiet," she grinned, "you're going to have to buy me an _amazing_ birthday present."

"Blackmail." He harrumphed again. "I shouldn't be surprised, I suppose. Hidden depths in you, Peck." Chief Tim waggled his finger. "Hidden depths. Is here good?" he asked suddenly, pulling over.

Gail looked around, seeing they were outside 15. "Yes sir. Thank you." Shyness overcame her again now that they were parting. "For lunch. And everything you said."

"Any time."

She hesitated, put off getting out of the car. "Sir?" He nodded and she question had been burning in her for a while now. "Why were you at the range this morning?"

"What do you mean?" He turned in his seat, giving her his full attention.

"Well, you work with 28. Which is over the other side of the city. That range isn't anywhere near your house either so you went out of your way to get there. So you must've come for a reason, right?"

He smiled. "Right. You caught me. What you did yesterday, I just wanted to congratulate you. And I knew that you would be there."

"You came for me?"

"Yes of course."

"Who told you? About yesterday?" she asked, hoping the answer would be the one she wanted. She crossed her fingers.

"My secretary. And Commissioner Veilley. He overlooks Gangs and was happy to tell me how a little Peck girl was showing everyone up at 15."

Gail nodded. "Did my mother say anything?" Her face stayed perfectly composed.

"Elaine? No. Why?"

She shrugged. "No, no reason. I was just wondering. Anyway, it doesn't matter. I should go."

"Yes of course." And yet his hand came out to pat her hand. He knew something was wrong – that very quick chat about her mother had done nothing but reinforce his idea of what. And Gail, if you need anything, anything at all, you have my number. Yes?" Gail frowned but nodded.

"Yes sir."

"Pull out your phone," he commanded her. She did. "Go to my contact details." She looked bemused but scrolled through her contact until his name was highlighted. "Now call it." Here she looked up at him, askance, and he nodded seriously. "Call it." She pressed call and his phone rang shrilly from the holster in his pocket. Quickly, he yanked it out. "Chief Tim," he answered.

"Hello?" she said quietly, confused, not understanding this game.

He hung up. "And that is how you call me. Did you want to practice again or do you think you've got it?"

The silliness of the scenario caused Gail to laugh, it slipping out suddenly. She flung up a hand to catch it but it bubbled out anyway and she blushed. "I think I've got it," she giggled. "Thank you, sir. I have to get to work now…"

"Alright. I've kept you long enough. Let's go." He slid out of the car and walked her into the precinct. "I've business with Frank," was all he said to her 'what are you doing?' look. She didn't look convinced but he really did. He had to tell him that Gail had beaten him – badly – at the range. He'd decided on bragging. "Have a safe shift," he told her. Ordered her, rather.

"You too, sir."

* * *

There were a few whispers and sideways looks for Gail when she came in and set to work. She took them in her stride. Certainly, they were to be expected when she did a thing like catching a bad guy, she assumed. Wrongly.

Andy told her what they were all about come the end of shift. Gail was practically draped over the coffee pot, salivating, waiting for it to finish. Andy nudged in next to her and used the younger girl as an armrest.

"Get off."

"Nup."

"Andy get _off_," she whined, wriggling away. Andy leaned more heavily on Gail and wrapped her arms around her shoulders.

"Nope." Andy squeezed her tight. "I'm hugging you. I get to do that."

"No, uh, actually you don't," Gail groaned, finally succeeding in slapping Andy's arms away. She pretended to shudder and then glared at the woman. "Ew. What was that?"

"I'm sad and tired and my little Gail was here," Andy teased, reaching out again.

"_No_!" Gail barked.

"I'll get you a donut."

"You know that offering to buy me donuts doesn't automatically make me do things I hate. Like, I do have some integrity and-"

"I'll buy you two."

"Deal. What do you want?"

Andy grabbed Gail and they returned to the coffee machine. She liked teasing her friend, sure, but what she really wanted to do was talk to her. Make sure that she was okay. So instead of annoying her by hugging her or ruffling her hair – Andy wasn't touchy feely like that anyway, she just knew that it would rile her up – she hopped up to sit on the counter top and grinned at the blonde.

"So Jack in evidence saw you come in with the Chief. He told Luck who told Smith and I guess he told some other people who told Noelle who told us." Gail frowned, trying to follow that trail of gossip. "Anyway, is everything okay? Why did you come in with him?"

Gail shrugged. Looked at her shoes. "He's my godfather. We had lunch."

"Oh." Andy blinked. She hadn't known that. "Oh! Good. Okay good. I mean, I didn't _think_ you would be in trouble for what we did yesterday but when I heard, I was still worried, you know?" She clamped her mouth shut. Babbling. She did that too much and it was a dead giveaway, she thought, that she was a rookie still.

"You were worried? That I was in trouble?"

"Yeah."

"Why?"

"Umm…because you're my intern?" Andy kicked her leg out to nudge Gail's thigh. "Because it was our idea and I wouldn't want you in trouble. But hey, everything worked out great. You were awesome, we were awesome, and we got the guy!"

"You did?" Andy nodded.

"This morning. He even coughed up some guys we've been trying to catch so yeah. It has been _amazing_." She nodded, all self-confidence and wide grin.

"And, I don't know, it doesn't bother you that my godfather is the Chief?"

"Should it?" She did look a touch wary when Gail had mentioned it, actually, but seeing Gail uncomfortable, nervous, she decided that it didn't matter. She had seen first hand Gail's 'Peckspectations' and she didn't envy the girl one bit. Okay, maybe _one_ itty bitty bit for having the Chief of Police as a godfather, but she would never be able to deal with Gail's mother.

"No."

"No. Then it doesn't. So what are you in the mood for? I'm thinking Thai. I could _really_ go for some Thai." She groaned hungrily. "Now all I can think about is getting some Thai. Are you done for today? I'm thinking pad thai. Maybe some spring rolls. Egg noodles." Gail's stomach growled and Andy laughed. "Yeah that's what I am talking about, Peck. Come on – my shout."

"Hey!" A voice called, seeing the pair exit the lunchroom, laden with coffee and teasing and taunting one another. "Where are you going?"

"Second lunch," Gail said. "Why? You want something? Andy is planning a feast."

"Oh man – spicy green chicken curry," Andy added.

"_Please_," Traci begged. "Fried rice. A lot of it. I'm starving. Jerry has had me working on this case all morning and I haven't had a chance to eat."

"Fried rice, got it." Andy added it to her mental checklist. She waggled her eyebrows. "How is Jerry?"

"Good," her friend laughed. "Busy." She looked around and stepped a little closer, biting her lip self-consciously. "I've been thinking about letting him meet Leo," she confessed.

Andy grinned. "Really? Trace, that's awesome!"

"You think? I don't know. I'm a little worried about it."

"Sorry. Who's Leo?"

Traci dug in her pocket and pulled out her wallet, flipping to a picture. Gail 'awwed' over it. In it, Traci was hugging a little boy to his side. They had matching wide smiles and the same, strangely enough, ears. "My son," she said, slightly unnecessarily. Gail nodded. "I'm thinking of letting my boyfriend meet him," she explained.

"Jerry. Jerry _Barber_?" Gail hissed, eyes wide. "Detective Jerry Barber, your boss?"

Traci's face fell, suddenly as if carved in stone. "Why? Going to tell someone?" She folded her arms, hiding that photo from view, and Gail realised that her reaction had set them back. And it hadn't even been purposeful.

"No, I,"

"No. That's right. Because you're a teenager and an intern," Traci snapped.

"Trace," Andy warned. It was enough to stop anything else from coming out – that Traci would definitely have regretted, snapping in an automatic defence that she had built, defending her against bigots and assholes since first becoming a teen mother – but it wasn't enough to reassure Gail.

She was already backing away a little, heart sunk low in her chest. "Sorry," she murmured. "I have a thing. I have to," she shook her head. "Go to it. I have to go to the thing," she said, before retreating to the lunch room.

Traci grimaced. "I messed up," she said succinctly.

"Yeah." Andy sighed. "A little bit."

"I just…I got really nervous, you know? Because her mom is Superintendent and now I find out her godfather is Chief? I could lose my job."

"You aren't going to lose your job. But you are going to lose Gail if you don't go apologise." Andy gave her a light shove. "I'm getting lunch. When I come back, I expect to see you guys all buddy buddy again. Okay?"

Traci laughed. "Yes ma'am. Now go. I'm starving. Oh – Oliver was asking for fortune cookies this morning. Something about a test. He has a choice to make?" She shrugged. "I don't know. Can you grab a bag for him from the store?" Andy saluted and moved away. Traci set off for the lunch room. But as she approached, glass walls gave way to the sight of her friend, stock still in the room, eyes fixed on some distant figure. Traci looked to where Gail was staring. She gulped. Superintendent Peck.

It was like the two had some radar between them, something that told them where the other was at all times. Traci had it for Leo but _this_, this was something different, on a completely different level. It had a pushing pulling heat. It sucked at Gail, sucked out any defiance or self preservation. It added force to the line of Elaine's shoulders, speed to her steps. Traci froze in place and could do nothing but watch it take place.

Gail was holding onto that tiny hope, fanning it a little to give her features colour instead of the dreading ashen grey she could feel spreading over her cheeks. She hoped that this was all her mother had needed: a little time, a little privacy, and now Gail was going to get the congratulations and praise she had earned.

The hope was crushed. Mercilessly.

"I suppose I should be glad you didn't ruin that entire operation," she said, voice as cold as ice. Files were slapped down onto the table. "What on earth were you thinking?"

"Pardon?"

"That was _not_ a job for an intern, Gail."

"I know. I, they asked me. They asked me to do it."

"Don't stutter. I'm sure they know not to do that again, don't they? How many times do I have to tell you? Lying is never the way to go in that situation. I've told you this time and again. Pick a story and stick to it. Stay as close to the truth as possible."

Gail frowned. "I know, mother."

"Do you? Then what is this?" Elaine grabbed the top file and flicked it open. She took her time searching for the right line. "Sometimes I'm hungry," she read out. "He doesn't really give a shit about me. Except to make sure that I'm getting good grades. Push yourself harder. Do better. You're a disgrace to this family." Elaine flung it down again and the pages scattered wide across the room. She took a step forward; Gail took a step back. "You father _never_ treated you in that manner. But with your own admission – that was caught on tape, must I remind you – you knew to stick to the truth. It sounds as thought you are living in some kind of abusive situation." Gail blinked. "Do you understand I had to field questions about this? From the Staff Sergeant. From senior officers and detectives at this, the precinct I oversee? They were concerned about what it might say about your father. People could use something like that against him, Gail."

Gail's hands curled into fists. Right. They were concerned about her father. "Mother,"

"And not only that but you didn't even get the name of the pawnbroker. The boy was practically drooling over you, offered up the information and you flew right past it. All information is important. Critical, even, to an operation like this one. You should have done better."

"I wasn't talking about Dad," Gail said quietly. Her nails dug into her skin.

Elaine sighed. "Of course you weren't. But you need to understand that the things one says can be taken and spun to-"

"I was talking about you," she said, still quiet, speaking into Elaine's words, splintering them. It made the woman falter. "Don't you recognise the words? Push yourself harder. Do better." Gail swallowed. Her voice had cracked there and that wasn't good, her mother would tear weakness apart, she should just stop talking – no. Her words _were_ good enough and they had to be said. If they cracked with emotion, overwhelming whatever, because she was for the first time actually confronting her mother about something that she, who pretended to be the epitome of perfection, was failing at then so be it. "You're a disgrace," she continued. "Failing the Peck name, Gail. You need to make something of yourself. It's not _good_ enough. What good are you?" She licked her lips. Thought for a moment. "I'm not going to be at home tonight. I'm staying with a friend. Excuse me." She brushed past her mother and past Traci, faltered a little then once she saw the woman and shrugged minutely at her, and out.

"Intern Peck! Come back here this instant." Gail ignored it. Faces, officers turned in their seats. She kept walking "Gail! _Gail_," and, pulling her bag futher up onto her shoulder, she strode calmly out of the precinct.

Once outside, she promptly ran into the side alley and braced herself against the wall there. She felt dizzy and sick and she heaved a few deep breaths, sliding down onto wavering legs, crouching, until she thought she wouldn't puke. Then she stayed there a moment more. Just in case.

Gail's hand fumbled in the pocket of her bag for her phone, dialling a number she had stared at many times.

"Hello?" Holly answered. "Gail?" Right. Caller ID. Gail opened her mouth to answer, her tongue flicking out to wet cracked lips, when she tasted salt. She realised that she was crying. Rather heavily, actually. It was approaching sobbing and so she hung up quickly, not wanting Holly to hear that. She pulled her phone away from her ear and opened up messenger.

_Pick me up_? she sent.

She only had to wait for a moment. _From where? Police station_?

Gail frowned. She couldn't remember ever mentioning the police or the station or her job around Holly. But perhaps she was remembering the small emblem that had been on Elaine's shirt that time they had met, and had recognised it as police.

_Yes. Are you a stalker? 15 Div_

_No. Be there soon_. _20 mins_

* * *

After a night of worrying about her, it was good to see Gail. She was sitting on her bag outside the station, beside the big sign, and she looked fine. Good, even. Certainly not like she had spent the night in jail. And if not then wow, rude. She could have texted her or something so that she could go to sleep and not have to worry about her study buddy being shanked or interrogated.

She had a wild imagination.

"Hey there sexy. How much?" Holly asked, grinning, when Gail wandered over. It just elicited an eye-roll but that was good enough.

"Too expensive for you, nerd. Is it okay if I...?" she asked, trailing off, and lifting her bags to show them off. Holly tried to ignore the very obvious signs that Gail had been crying and nodded her head.

"Oh yeah. Sure. Back seat." Gail dumped her things in the back and clambered into the passenger seat, curling up instantly. She was in her workout clothes and a police issue sweater, sleeves too long and dangling over her hands, scrunched up in her palms for added comfort and reassurance. "It's a bit early but did you want to go to my place?"

Gail nodded. "How did you know I was here?" she asked after a little while.

Holly, pulling out into the traffic, answered without thinking. "I saw you yesterday." She jerked her head, trying to see more in the rear view mirror. "You were getting into the car. I thought you'd – what the _hell_ is that guy doing?" she snarled at the stupid driver. Gail stuck her middle finger out the window at the man and Holly nodded her thanks. "I thought you'd been arrested."

"I'm charming and sweet. I would never be arrested." Holly snorted. Gail looked offended. "What?"

"What?"

"You think I would be arrested?"

"Well…yeah. Kinda. If you were doing something, I don't know, illegal."

Gail shrugged. "Maybe. Maybe not."

"Okay," Holly said. "If you weren't getting arrested, what were you doing?" She didn't comment on the tear tracks but she silently hoped that no one had died.

"Just helping out." At Holly's confused look, she elaborated. "I work there. At the station. I'm an intern usually."

"I'm guessing that yesterday wasn't the usual intern stuff then?"

"No. I helped out in an undercover operation," she said lightly. "I pretended that I'd been arrested so I could get a guy to confess on tape that he'd seen his friend murder a man." She played with her sleeves and missed the achingly slow way that Holly turned to her, shocked.

"_What_?"

"What?"

"Well, I, is that normal? Were you scared? Couldn't someone else have done that?"

Gail frowned. Holly sounded…concerned. She didn't really like answering questions but by picking her up, Holly was doing her a favour so she should answer them. Right? Besides, her mouth had already begun to answer and trailing off part way through would be strange. "Normally only the police go undercover. But I just had to talk to him, that's all. And I come from a cop family so I've kind of been training for it since I was in utero." Holly filed that new information in the brain space she'd dubbed 'stuff about Gail'. "I wasn't scared. I was a little scared but not of him." She sighed. Something about Holly made her want to talk about this stuff. "I was scared I would fuck up and be disowned or something for not being a real Peck. But I did amazing, Holly. He gave me everything they wanted him to give me and more. And guess what?" She laughed. Holly didn't quite flinch but it was close. That was not a happy laugh. "My mother is still disappointed with me. Angry, actually. I," she rubbed her hand over her face and closed her eyes. She was feeling dreadfully – as in stomach-churning, dreading – vulnerable and her voice dropped low and small. "I don't know what more I can do, you know?"

Holly just nodded. What really could you say when your study buddy/potential friend admits that they were afraid of being a failure and were sure they had messed up?

"Well," she said, tapping the steering wheel, "I think you're amazing, Gail."

Gail snorted. "Right." Scraps of self-preservation were fluttering all around – she'd torn them open, admitting all of that to Holly – and Gail was scrambling to clutch them all.

"I do!" Holly felt the overwhelming need to prove it, to cheer Gail up, to show her how awesome she thought she was. Trouble was, it was a feeling. An emotion. And she had very little fact to back it up with. And fact was what Holly Stewart dealt with. She searched for facts. "Did you ever learn sign language before?" Gail shook her head no. "But you turn up yesterday already knowing a bunch. Enough to completely thrill Lucy, by the way."

A small smile broke Gail's frown. She had a massive soft spot for Lucy that she hoped Holly wouldn't take advantage of.

"Was that why you were so tired?"

Gail shrugged, non-committedly. It had been a part of it – a small part – but her mothers extensive exercise regime had been the larger part. "And you paid me excessively even though I told you know to – totally unnecessary but I bought donuts and we can stop at the store to pick up anything else you wanted."

"Cheese puffs," Gail murmured.

"Okay. Cheese puffs. Also," Holly continued, returning to their previous discussion, "you're smart. Like, really smart. And you're funny." Gail grimaced. This conversation was getting too, ick, heart-warming emotional crap for her. Holly noticed that in the way her shoulders stiffened and drew in a little. "But you're kind of a bitch," Holly added lightly, teasingly, and she stuck her tongue out at Gail when those blue eyes narrowed in a glare.

"You say mean things," Gail accused her. She sent off a text into the wide beyond, getting a reply a moment later that let her breath out in a relieved sigh, before slipping her phone away. "Be quiet now." Holly just laughed and let Gail fiddle with the radio until she changed it to top twenties and turned it up enough that Holly couldn't hear her humming under her breath. She did, however, notice the blonde mouthing the words a few times, when she looked over. Gail had her legs propped against the dash. It was a position that made Holly uncomfortable and nervous – she could get hurt if they crashed, her brain yelled at her, but she wasn't yet secure enough in their friendship to tell Gail off – and she was scrolling through her phone. Holly didn't mention the singing. She did, however, make a mental note to make Gail sing for her at some point.

She swung into a park and dove out of the car, jogging in to grab an unhealthy amount cheese puffs and, she checked her phone for her mothers text, milk and cocoa powder. Gail was half asleep when she returned, her cheek pressed against the window. Holly drove slowly and carefully home, trying not to disrupt Gail's sleep. Turning into the driveway, Holly gently touched Gail's shoulder – feeling not at all weird about seeing the girl asleep in her car and then feeling weird because she _should_ feel weird about it, right? – and she shot awake, blinking rapidly. Gail pulled her bags from the backseat and trudged inside.

Once inside, it was as though she had a one track mind. She dropped her bag at the table and, spying her, moved into the living room. Lucy was kneeling next to the coffee table, her body draped a little over the wooden structure supposedly so she could push as much energy into her drawings as possible. She was scribbling away with an orange crayon. Silently, Gail sat opposite her, signed a quick _hello_ and took a crayon. The purple one. She drew and drew and drew and as she drew her head fell further and further down until it was pillowed against her arm and then it was a quick blink and fluttering eyelashes and she was asleep again. Lucy dashed over to her big sister when it happened, who took her to their mother, who led them all back into the living room to examine the blonde. Very gently, Anna draped a blanket over Gail and adjusted her head so her neck wouldn't crick too badly. Signing, she told Lucy not to wake her up and to go do her homework with holly at the table instead. Then she returned to the kitchen, renewed in her resolve to keep Gail with them at least for dinner.

Gail woke in a state. Agitated. She didn't recognise the house, the room, and it made her incredible nervous. She stood, shucking the blanket that had been tucked around her, and pressed herself against the nearest wall to peer out into the next room.

Lucy was the first to see her. _Hi_, she signed. _Are you hungry_? Gail nodded yes. _Dinner_, was the only word Gail recognised. Holly and her mother had realised at some point that Lucy was signing and they looked up at Gail.

"Gail," Anna said, smiling her greeting. "Good evening. How are you feeling?"

How was she feeling? Gail swallowed dryly. Incredibly awkward. Uncomfortable. Vulnerable. "I have to go," she said.

"Oh no," Holly argued. "Sit down. You're eating something." She jumped up and shooed her into her seat. "Mom makes an amazing mac and cheese. We've eaten already," empty, dirtied bowls on the table confirmed that, "but there's some for you in the oven. Sit. I'll get it."

"It's not necessary," Gail whispered. But she was already sitting, following blindly the warm and slight pressure of Holly's hand on her arm, and Lucy was smiling at her, and Anna had her bowl there already and it was steaming and smelt yum delicious. Holly sat and stayed right next to her and if Gail found the constant pressure where their legs were pressed up very slightly against each others disconcerting or uncomfortable, she didn't mention it and she didn't move away.

She was halfway through her meal when Anna asked the question she had been turning over in her mind. She wanted to smooth it out, to make it less jarring or frightening for Gail to answer, but she didn't know how.

"Is everything alright, Gail?"

She did her best not to choke on her dinner at the surprise question. She succeeded, swallowing, and nodded up at Anna. "Yes ma'am."

"Gail. Be honest. I only want to know, would you like to stay here tonight?"

"No ma'am. I mean, yes, thank you for the offer," she said, not wanting to offend, "but I, ah, I'm fine."

"It's fine if you do, Gail." Holly backed up her mother. "Really. You can have my room and I'll sleep on the couch or bunk with Luce and"

"Really," Gail reassured them quietly, firmly. "I am fine." It was utterly strange for them to be so worried but with good food in her stomach and an hours long nap behind her, she was feeling good. "I, ah, I have a place. I'm staying with a friend." She smiled shyly, just at Holly. "But thank you?"

Holly beamed back. She was relieved that Gail was all right, that was all she wanted. And of course she had other people she could stay with. "You're welcome." She nudged Gail and then their legs were against one another lightly and so were their shoulders.

Anna took in their positions and smiled. She had the feeling that they were both completely unaware. She knew better though. And, funnily enough, Lucy seemed to have caught on as well. She was rolling her eyes.

_Gross_, Lucy signed to her mother.

_Watch yourself,_ Anna reprimanded her. _One day you'll be sixteen and crushing on someone_.

_Ew!_ Lucy, apparently, disagreed_. Gross_, she signed again.

* * *

Gail stayed with them until a pair of headlights cut the night air. A gentle knock on the door sent Gail out, bags on shoulders. She lingered for a moment before ducking back inside the house. She touched Holly's shoulders – the girl was washing dishes, not wanting to have to see Gail leave.

"We, um, text me. The time for our next study session," Gail said.

"Yeah. I'll do that."

"Okay." She agonised for a moment. Then ducked it, hugged Holly very, very, _very_ quickly, and ran outside. She grabbed Chloe by the arm and slid into the girl's car, telling her to drive.

"They seem nice," Chloe commented, driving away.

"Yeah."

"How do you know Holly?"

"Studying."

"Oh." Chloe nodded. A sideways glance at a stony profile clamped Chloe's mouth shut. Talking, she knew, wouldn't be appreciated just yet.

Chloe took one of Gail's bags when they arrived and helped her lug it up the six flights to her apartment. "I'm really glad you asked me, Gail," Chloe was saying. "I feel like we're becoming really firm friends and it can only be made more awesome through a sleepover." Gail nodded. She didn't mention that she just didn't want to annoy Chris or Dov and that she'd actually shocked herself by texting Chloe. But, she reasoned with herself, the reason she didn't mind the idea of staying with the tiny chatterbox girl was because she wouldn't feel bad about threatening her or permanently borrowing her things like she might with Chris or Dov. It definitely had nothing to do with the fact that even when Gail had been straight up mean to her, Chloe had insisted that she was still a nice person and looked forward to sitting next to her in class.

"Want to talk about it?" Chloe asked when Gail stood awkwardly in the doorway to the apartment.

"No." Stern. Uncompromising. No hesitation. The fierceness, though, was belayed by the way Gail followed Chloe carefully, even seeming to step in her footprints as they travelled around the rooms. She just wasn't comfortable in other peoples homes – she ignored her memory of Holly's house, in which she had been so suddenly comfortable that she was able to fall asleep in the blink of an eye near about – not knowing how to act in a situation, an environment, so different to her own and it showed.

Chloe nodded. "Do you want to watch Greys Anatomy? I'm up to season three." Gail narrowed her eyes, looking for some catch, some ulterior motive. But Chloe was wriggling a bowl of some delicious smelling thing in her direction and Gail was tired and sad and so she snatched the bowl and dropped onto the _oh my god so comfortable_ couch.

That night, before Gail retreated into the spare room, she called out to Chloe.

"Yeah?" the red head replied, smiling widely.

"I… you know. This isn't so bad. I guess."

"You're welcome."

"Yeah no I wasn't thanking you."

"Yes you were," Chloe beamed. "And Gail," she continued, ignoring the disgusted expression Gail had adopted at the thought of thanking Chloe, "anytime. Really. Anytime." Gail swallowed. That was the second time in one day that someone had offered her anything. Had seemed to care. Three, if you counted the silent and cheerful reassurances of the Stewarts. Gail didn't acknowledge the Stewarts, she kept their help secret and safe and would wait for a private moment to think about why it made her so happy. "Hug?" Chloe asked.

"No."

"Okay." she chirruped and skipped into her room

Gail closed the door behind her and let out a breath. She had survived. Now all she had to do was go to sleep somehow and then survive her mothers wrath tomorrow and the next day and the next day and the next…and Gail felt gloom settle heavy on her heart and she opened the door and knocked lightly on Chloe's, which opened after a split second.

"Can I?" Gail gestured into the room and her shoulders were shaking and Chloe was tugging her in and onto her bed and they were hugging, well Chloe was hugging Gail, and she felt too warm and the hug was too tight but it was better than the alternative so she allowed it for a little while until her head didn't feel quite so tight and then she shuffled away and handed Chloe one of her many, many stuffed toys and she took one in her own arms and she hoped that Chloe wouldn't mention any of this in the morning.

"Stop worrying," the girl murmured. "I won't tell Dov or Chris that you're secretly a big softy, kay?"

"Better not," Gail replied. "I know where you live," and neither of them commented on the fact that the threat fell hollow into the warm space between them and Gail found herself drifting into a peaceful sleep.

**Enjoy. Again, 2% editing this time. I have so much work to do so I can't promise a timely update but stick with it because I have a bunch of stuff I want to do. Let me know what you thought. Happy reading, readers :)**


	9. Chapter 9

**How The Light Gets In: Chapter Nine**

**I don't own Rookie Blue.**

**Please enjoy. **

_The exemplum should be of the simplest and most obvious sort, deeply moving to those who are willing to look, and to see, without prejudice, that in allowing himself to be at home here, he has crossed the boundaries of his given nature—_Malouf

* * *

Gail woke with gritty eyes to an abundance of pinks and purples. She groaned and buried her face in the pillow she was clutching.

"Good morning!" came a friendly crooning. "Rise and shine, sleepyhead!" Gail contemplated maiming the girl as her socked feet touched the bedroom floor. She wasn't going to get any more sleep. "Wakey wakey. How do you like your waffles?" She contemplated murder then, slumping down the corridor. Chloe squealed a greeting when Gail dropped onto the bar stool at the counter. "Good morning," she said.

"You're a morning person," Gail said. Chloe beamed at her. "Don't do that."

"Do what?"

"Smile."

"Okay?" she laughed.

"Don't do that either."

"Do what?" Chloe asked again, trying not to let her smile break through at the sight of mussed hair, grumpy-eyed Gail. She was trying to be so intimidating and brash, Chloe knew, but she looked kind of adorable and just grumpy like a child.

"Laugh."

"Okay, Gail," Chloe said accommodatingly, a hint of a laugh tucked into the word. "Waffles? Do you want choc-chip ones?" Gail blinked up at the girl.

"Yes. And coffee."

"Alrighty then! Coming right up!"

Gail dropped her head into her hands and groaned. The girl just did _not_ understand that mornings were for foul tempers and shuffling and guzzling coffee. What kind of fiend was she? And then Chloe started singing and Gail slumped further onto the countertop and buried her head under her hands, pulling the hood of her jumper over her head and ears, stuffing them against sound.

Some time later, a few minutes perhaps, a plate nudged at Gail's arm. She lifted her body just enough to pull the plate towards her and grabbed the fork offered with a childish grip, near about shovelling the warm and delicious meal into her mouth. She groaned and devoured the food.

"Fine, Chloe," she said, finishing her plateful. The bubbly fiend-of-a-girl looked up, confused. "You can stay."

"Stay? This is my house."

Gail glared at her. Why couldn't she understand Gail's train of thought? "You can stay in the position of my…" Friend sounded too familiar. It would give Chloe ideas. Like, that Gail enjoyed her company. "Not totally despised person."

"Gail," Chloe teased, "I feel positively loved. Do you want seconds?"

"Yes."

"Well, I'll make them and do you want to take a shower? Dov and Chris are going to come over in a bit to watch TV."

"How long is a bit?"

"About an hour." Gail glanced at the clock hanging on the wall. 8:23 am.

"You people are disgusting. It's a Saturday. People _sleep in_ on Saturdays." She shook her head. "You can deal with me as I am," she said. Then, rethinking in the light of a better idea, she told Chloe "I'm going back to bed." The waffles slid into place in front of her. "After I eat these."

And she did. She retreated to the spare bedroom and wrapped herself around a pillow and at some point she faintly heard a door opening and closing and the familiar voices of her friends. She also heard Chloe – her new and rather fierce champion – telling Dov off when he suggested they jump on Gail to wake her up.

"You absolutely will not, Dov Epstein!" A crack of hand against skin made Gail smile. Chloe had slapped Dov. Hopefully on the face; more likely on his arm.

"Ow! Chloe, I was just kidding," he wheedled. And then everything was silence and quiet television and Gail drifted off again into sleep.

She shuffled out of the bedroom when it felt like a more appropriate time and dropped into the couch next to Chris. He opened his arms and she fell into him, yawning.

"Hey."

"Hey," he said stiffly. Gail looked up and noticed another bruise had coloured his eye this time. He smiled widely, not seeming to notice it, and she felt an overwhelming affection for this boy. But, naturally, she didn't know how to approach it so she just appropriated his body for her own use and draped her legs over his and used his shoulder as a head rest. "Comfy?" he asked.

"Myeah. D'you think you could eat more candy?" she retorted. "Get a bit softer?"

"I'll work on it." Dov handed him a pillow and Chris tucked it between them. Gail hugged it to her chest. "Wanna talk about it?" her friend – her first friend, really, when she thought about it – asked so quietly that she doubted Dov or Chloe, snuggled up on the love seat two metres away, could hear him.

She sighed. "No."

"Okay." He hugged her shoulders. "We're watching The Walking Dead." Gail spared the television a glance but she'd seen it before so she just allowed the murmurs between friends to soothe her and she closed her eyes and fell into that strange, lethargic space of sleep but not sleep.

"Gail," she heard. The voice was thick, sluggish as though wading toward her through a body of water. "Gail." A gentle shake to her shoulder accompanied it.

She grunted.

"Your phone is ringing." The device was pushed into her hand and she hit 'answer' without thinking.

"What?" she snarled.

"Nice to talk to you too, sunshine," the voice laughed. Gail felt it like cold water dashed against her face and she sat bolt upright.

"Sir," she said unsteadily. She checked her watch but it was only eleven. She wasn't late to work so why was he calling?

"No, no, it's just Oliver. You know that by now, Peck. Listen, Frank was talking to me and we thought, you know, you've done such great work when you could have been napping or whatever it is you school kids do when you get wrongfully suspended from school." Gail felt her lips stretch in a smile. She liked the way he talked. Rambling amicably, just strolling along in his conversation. "So we thought, hey, why not give little Peck the weekend off? And I for one thought that was a great idea. Go shoot some hoops, catch up with your buddies, find out the 411."

"Do you even know people my age, Oliver?" she grinned. She'd never heard those terms un-ironically in her life.

"Excuse me!" he said, faking a hurt tone. "I know people. Your age. Maybe. Yeah, no, I don't," he laughed. "Anyway, the point was if you step into 15 this weekend, you'd better have been arrested, okay?"

"Yes sir," she said. And she revelled in the feeling of not giving a single shit what her mother thought about it. "Thank you."

"Anytime, kiddo. Oh, whoops, Nash and I are heading out. I'm going to make her buy me a sandwich. Catch you later, Peck."

Ending the call, she looked up into expectant faces. "What?"

"Who was that?" Chloe asked.

"None of your business." Gail crossed her arms and stared at the television but the zombie action was paused by Dov – who was a total remote control freak – and she sighed. "Officer Shaw."

"Oh my god" – "The police?" – "Are you in trouble?" – "What did you do?" – "What happened?" – "Why do you assume that she did something, Dov? That's so rude." – "Yeah, not cool dude." – "Ow! Don't hit me! I was just asking – it was just a question. How is that _not_ one of the first things you thought when she mentioned the cops?" – "Yeah it was a question that was _rude_" – "Okay guys, just stop fighting." – "Ouch! Chloe!" – "I bet Gail didn't do anything wrong, you big meanie" – "she might have – ouch!" – "Chloe, my sun, my moon, I'm sorry" – "Sorry my ass! Your boyfriend privileges are revoked until you apologise."

Gail watched the chaos with glee and a slight smile, still tucked into Chris's side. She wished she had popcorn. It was possible that they were just putting it on like an act; if so, she knew that she had chosen the right friends, who understood what she liked and appreciated. There was little that Gail enjoyed more than watching ordinarily close companions turn on each other furiously. Perhaps that was why she enjoyed the Hunger Games so much.

"Gail I am very sincerely apologetic for assuming that you did something wrong. I promise that I will from here on out give you the benefit of the doubt."

Gail laughed. "You just want to keep making out with Chloe."

"Duh."

"I accept but only because it I didn't you would totally go on a trivia rampage and make my life hell. Chloe, forgive him." Chloe beamed and kissed Dov smack on the mouth. Chris and Gail groaned. "Gross, gross, okay, stop it."

"Okay. But only if you tell us about this Officer Shaw."

"Well, he was calling me about the fact that I got arrested yesterday," Gail teased them. Jaws dropped in shock. "Joking. I work at the station as an intern."

"Oh, right." Dov slapped his forehead. "Your mom is, like, supercop." If they noticed the way Gail shut down at the mention of her mother – and they did, each one of them in different ways: Chris, feeling the way Gail tensed and the suddenly coldness of the hand he was holding; Chloe, Chloe who had held Gail the night before and heard her quiet sobbing, saw the way Gail's mouth clamped shut and eyes tightened; and Dov, who was already berating himself having taken part in a lecture with Chris from Chloe before being allowed inside her home about not being stupid or upsetting Gail because she had a really rough night alright okay so just be nice, saw the ashen tinge her cheeks took on and the way she swallowed around a sudden thickness of words in her throat or maybe they were tears or some other unidentifiable body entirely that was a dangerous lump that Dov had accidently put there with the mention of her mother.

Quick, their darting eyes said. Quick, change the subject, make it safe, make her safe and happy here – and their eyes fell to Dov because that was his mistake and he took in a deep breath, puffed out his chest, and took it on.

"So if you didn't get arrested, what did you do?"

Gail's words were quiet and quick: her mother hadn't cared so why would they? "I helped them arrest a murderer."

Dov went slack jawed with the image of Gail, that same fierce Gail who had taken his side against the enormous hulk of a bully, taking down a real-life criminal. He nodded. He could totally see it.

"How'd you do that?" Chloe asked. She knew more about policing than her boyfriend from hanging around her godfather and she knew the division would never put Gail in danger, or any danger they couldn't quantify and account for.

Gail shrugged. Chris nudged her. "Come on, that sounds really cool. Tell us."

"Well, there was this guy," she started. Seeing their interest, she continued, giving factoids here and there and noticing with wonder at the way they nodded and mumbled faint praises and there was a strange feeling of rightness, or togetherness, that she hadn't really felt before. A feeling like everything was coming together nicely and it was odd because she'd only been out of that house for one night. A feeling that acknowledged yes, she had enjoyed her work, she had enjoyed helping them and using the skills she had however reluctantly honed, and it was easy to accept that feeling outside the constant pressure that she _had _to. She knew she had to go back there to that but for the time being she was incredibly comfortable where she was and with whom. And she hoped that when she did, she could take some of this with her – a slacking in the terror that she felt day in and day out that this was the day she failed, this was the day that everything unravelled beneath her feet.

"Gail," Dov announced when she was done because it was still his fault that he had upset her, shaken her off balance when this morning had been all about the opposite, and also because he was genuinely impressed, "that is awesome. You are awesome." He looked around. "Does anyone else feel like we should be bowing or something? Maybe we should give you a title. Captain Gail?" he offered.

"Her Eminence," Chris chimed in.

"I like Queen," Chloe shrugged. "It's regal and simple."

"Well, _I_ like The Almighty and Poweful" Gail said, smiling tentatively at Dov. He grinned back.

"Look! A smile!" Her smile morphed to a scowl, prompting yet more teasing. "Sorry, Gail, no take backs. We all saw that smile. I'm writing it in my diary tonight. _Dear Diary_," he mimed scribbling on his lap, _"Gail smiled at me today. It was awesome_."

"You think a smile is good?" Chloe scoffed, leaning over her boyfriend. "I got a _hug_."

Chris touched Gail's forehead lightly with the back of his hand. "You feeling alright? You haven't got a temperature but do you have the sniffles? Maybe a headache or aching in your joints?"

"Fuck off, you guys," Gail grumbled. She hid the smile that grew at their teasing in Chris's shoulder and gave her friends the middle finger.

"Aww, we're just teasing."

"Oh no, little Gaily is sad," Dov cooed. "We should cheer her up."

"But what does Gail even like?" Chris mused. "Coffee."

"Donuts."

"Oh! Instruments of torture!"

"Trivia!" Dov contributed.

"Isn't that what they just said?" Gail questioned. "Instruments of torture?"

"Oh ha ha," Dov snarked. "You're a bundle of laughs."

"Holly!" Chloe contributed, overriding the snark battle between her new – and tentatively very good? – friend and her boyfriend. Her contribution froze that discussion, turning all eyes to her.

"Who's Holly?"

"Yeah. Who's _Holly_?" Dov asked and his tone, compared to the puppy-like confusion of Chris's, was slightly sleazy. Gail snapped her eyes toward him and scowled fiercely.

"She's my tutor," Gail said.

"Just your tutor? Because I saw a hu-ug," Chloe sing-songed. Gail's glare, transferred then from Dov to Chloe, promised a painful death was being planned with loving care just for her. Chloe gulped.

"I hug people sometimes," Gail bit out. "See?" She gestured between herself and Chris. "I'm hugging Chris."

"Actually, I would describe this as really similar to being used as a footrest – _which I am very grateful for, thank you_," he finished in a rush, seeing that ice cold stare then turning towards him. Their friends snickered away happily, enjoying the bickering.

"Shut up," Gail told her friend.

"Okay."

"I hugged Holly," she said to the room, "Because she made me macaroni and cheese for dinner and that is one of my favourite food groups. I don't see any of _you_ winning my affections like that."

They all said the appropriate agreements, "uh huh" and "sure whatever you say" teasingly among them, that went along with a statement like that – heavy in denial – and exchanged wicked grins.

But Holly…Holly was, for now at least, off limits to them; she was off limits even to Gail. She felt like – and it was a big idea, it was a dangerous idea for her full of indecision and careful ignorance – she felt like picking up Holly, picking up the idea of Holly, would leave her fingerprints all over her: grubby marks that pointed to a culprit that could be followed and linked to her; little besmirches on the surface of this glinting clean new concept. And she didn't want that.

So she put a stop to the discussion with a quiet, "Can we not talk about Holly?" and an even more quiet "please?" and then it was Chloe's time to shine, moving them effortlessly into the next topic.

"Dov!" she squealed, slapping his arm excitedly. "Oh my god, that's a great idea," she said, leaving the others in the dust because one, when had Dov _ever _had a great idea and two, he hadn't said anything. But Chloe's mind worked on a level separate to theirs and she knew exactly what she was talking about. Probably. "Where did you say that cute café was?"

He blinked thoughtfully. "You meant the one with chocolate?" She nodded. "Oh man, guys. That place is awesome. Literally every meal has chocolate in it somewhere. And the drinks too. And the brownies will blow. your. mind."

"Awesome," Chris nodded.

"So? Do you want to go?" Chloe asked, hugging Dov tight around the neck until he turned a vague shade of purple and choked out a request to please let him go. She kissed his cheek and loosened her hold. "Please guys? Please, please, _please_?"

Gail sighed. "I'm only going if Chris does."

He looked relieved. "I was about to say the same thing. It's just not safe being the third wheel on one of their dates.

Chloe squealed her excitement, ignoring the insult. Or, possibly, it was an attempt to rupture their eardrums in revenge. "Yay!" She went into action, slapping Dov's shoulders with excitement – making Gail wonder whether Dov ever had a chance to heal or whether he was perpetually black and blue from her ministrations, which led to thoughts of a private nature that she never, ever, _ever_ wanted to associate with Dov and Chloe again – and shoving at Gail to go shower. The latter action, of course, stopping when Gail glared at her and slowly, proving she was doing it because she wanted to not because Chloe wanted her to, slowly stood to go and shower.

* * *

"Huh. This is a nice place," Chris nodded, looking uncomfortably like he was lying. Gail stifled a laugh. The café _was _cute – by Chloe standards. Which meant everything looked like it had been plucked from the pages of a storybook and it didn't look like they had been enlarged very much. The seats were small, the plates and cups even smaller. The humorous side effect being that Chris looked like he was playing tea party with a five year old girl, perhaps, a teacup pinched between large fingers, and cautiously making his way around fine china and trying not to break the small chair. Dov and Gail were managing fine, barely, but Chloe the tiny human that she was, was right at home.

"It's something else," Gail agreed. Chris sent her a pleading look but she said nothing. Watching him struggle was just, mm, delicious.

"What does everyone want to eat?" Chloe asked. She didn't wait though and ordered something of nearly everything when it came their time to order. Unsurprisingly, the waitress was perky and enthusiastic and sweet - Gail shuffled away from her, fearing contamination. Chloe looked euphoric, like she had found a long lost sister. Dov looked confused. Chris was still trying to figure out how to sit without his knees coming up to bump him in the chest.

Gail's phone beeped from her pocket and she froze before pulling it out slowly. She had only a few contacts in her phone that didn't have a specific ringtone and one of those was her mother. She flipped it over to see the scene and breathed a sigh of relief. Holly.

Her relief turned into fluttering nerves.

Holly. _Holly_ was texting her. She unlocked her phone and read the message _Hey. How are you?_

Gail held the phone carefully in her hand. The others, after a short period free from Gail-snark, noticed her staring like the device was about to explode and as they had done all morning, exchanged looks that said 'you ask', 'I'm not asking, _you_ ask', and 'for gods sake guys, _I _will ask'.

"Gail? What is it?" Chloe asked, lowering her mug of sweet, sweet white-choc hot chocolate.

"A text."

"Who's it from?"

Gail looked up at Chloe and, feeling the insidious residual effect of the kindness the girl had shown her, admitted, "Holly."

"_Ooh, Holl-_ooph!" Chloe elbowed Dov hard in the stomach, cutting off his teasing. She hadn't even turned away from Gail, keeping concerned eyes on her friend.

Gail's expression was calm and collected but the way that she was sitting stock still and clutching at her phone, message still lit up on the screen, was a dead give away that something was, if not wrong, not completely right.

"What did she say?" Gail, hesitating briefly, showed Chloe the message, the red-head leaning over to skim the line. "That's so sweet," she sighed, eyelashes fluttering. "She's checking up on you. What are you going to say?"

Gail froze. Panicked. "I don't know."

"That's a weird thing to say," Chris commented around a mouthful of tiny sandwiches. "Why would you say that?"

Chloe and Gail shared exasperated glances – "boys" it seemed to say – before Gail finally reminded herself that she wasn't supposed to be able to tolerate Chloe and hardened her expression.

"Why don't you know what to say?" Chloe prompted. Chris, now listening more closely, nodded in understand. She didn't _know_ what to say. That made more sense than saying she didn't know how she felt. He returned to the sandwiches.

"I don't know."

"Haven't you texted her before?" Gail nodded. "Was it hard?" Shook her head no. "Then why is it hard now?"

"Because. I don't know. Because she picked me up yesterday when I was upset or something and I kind of fell asleep. Whatever," Gail grumbled, hitching her shoulders, uncomfortable. "And she's friendly. And I'm not."

"So just tell her that you're fine."

"But that could come off as too dismissive. I do want to talk to her and she was nice, it's not like I don't appreciate that." She lowered her phone, message still bright, to the table and traced her fingernail anxiously over the table top, around and around and around a watermark left by some long-ago mug.

"I don't see why you're freaking out," Dov said. "Just do what you do with us and tell her to mind her own business because you're too cool for her." Gail glowered at him. Chloe sighed. Sometimes her boyfriend was an idiot.

"I don't want to be mean to her," she admitted. "Holly's different." And her friends couldn't help but smile because there was something reverent in Gail's tone that they hadn't heard before and that was beautiful. "But all I know is how to be a bitch. I'm not _good_ at nice."

"Just be yourself, Gail. I think you'll be better at nice than you realise." Chloe then offered Gail Dov's brownie, ignoring his protests, and Gail took the entire slice.

"Hey!" Dov complained. "Also, hey, how come we've never heard about Holly before today?"

"Because she's cool and you aren't. You guys are nerd and she is a slightly cooler brand of nerd. Also, on a completely unrelated topic, I am leaving now." She lifted her bags onto her shoulders. "Chloe, you're slightly less incredibly annoying. Good job. I'll bring you a sticker on Monday." Chloe knew she should be offended that Gail was treating her like a six year old but when she got unreasonably excited about a sticker, she realised she didn't have much space to argue and so instead gave Gail her beaming smile. "Later, nerds."

It was as she was stalking out of the café that Dov groaned. "I'm going to have to pay for her." Chloe rubbed his neck soothingly and pulled him into a kiss to placate him.

"It's okay, baby. We'll order some more food and you can tell me all about your new trivia box set."

Chris looked up then, panicked, as he realised that Gail had left him alone with the couple. "We were supposed to be a team, Peck!" he called after her. "No man left behind as a weird third wheel!" But she either couldn't hear him or didn't care and continued walking.

Gail dropped her things onto a bench and opened her phone. She deliberated for five minutes, thumbs hovering over the keyboard, before finally typing a question.

_Where are you?_

The response came quickly. _Duke's. Working_._ Why? Are you okay?_

And Gail realised she hadn't responded to Holly's original text and that the emotionally apt girl was probably concerned. Gail fidgeted, pulling at her necklace, before replying.

_Kick any smelly kids out of kid area. Be there soon._

Duke's, Gail had noticed when Dov had driven them to the café, was only a kilometre or so down from the chocolate café shop monstrosity. She hoisted her bags up and started the trek.

"Hey," Gail greeted Holly. The brunette head snapped up and her body followed. Mostly. She hit the desk and sat back down with a thump and a steadily reddening face.

"Hi."

"Hey." Gail scuffed her shoe on the ground and Holly, who thought she had more space to be embarrassed given that she had voluntarily barrelled into her own desk at the sight of Gail, smiled at the shy gesture.

"You said that already," she pointed out. And her tone was just slightly unsure, cheerful as useful but careful, that it made Gail bristle and forcibly revert to her normal sarcastic self.

"You know, it sounded familiar." Gail shrugged. "Are all the nasty little children gone?"

"You can pretend to hate children all you like but I know of at least one kid you don't hate." Gail scoffed. "Lucy put up your drawing. Was it a horse?"

"It was a _dragon_, Holly." Gail glared.

"Sorry, sorry. I didn't have my glasses on when I looked at it. And it was dark."

"No excuse," Gail mumbled as she made her way over to the beanbags. "Horse." An unforgiving snort burst from her nose as she shook her head, feigning disgust. "A _horse_."

Holly hid a smile behind the pile of textbooks she carried over. She waited until Gail had chosen and settled into the beanbag she wanted and then dumped them next to her own, dropping down into it.

"Don't you have to be at the desk?" Gail asked, curling up.

"Nope. There aren't any customers at the moment." She turned a page and they sunk into a comfortable silence, disturbed only when Gail stretched and curled up again or demanded that they move so that she could follow the little stretch of light that straggled down through one of the windows high above.

After the third time they moved so Gail was in that long rectangle of sunlight – the glass interrupted it on it's way from her nemesis, the sun, so she was fairly confident it wouldn't burn her fair skin – Holly sighed. "You're like a cat," she half-noted, half-complained.

"Meow," Gail replied without a shred of humour. The seriousness of it as a statement had Holly in fits and Gail allowed herself a small smile. That was new. Making someone laugh like that.

Finished laughing, Holly watched her friend for a time. "Is everything okay?" she finally felt ready to ask. Gail had never replied to her text and now she was staring blankly at the ceiling with a half-smile that made Holly's neck itch.

Gail shrugged. "No," came her blunt confession. "I'm sad." She rolled over to look at Holly. Well, at Holly's collar because she couldn't quite muster the courage to meet her eyes. "My mother is kind of full on and I walked out of my house yesterday after kind of yelling at her." The words fell out without command. Gail ordered herself not to call them back in. She watched them marching toward Holly, watched Holly see them, acknowledge them, pick them up and study them, highlighting and underlining certain words. It wasn't until she was satisfied with her understanding that Holly allowed herself to react and Gail watched that transition, rather in awe of this careful, careful girl.

She didn't look bored or annoyed. She looked curious. And a touch sad.

"Are you going back?" she asked.

"Yes." And she was. She had to. She was a Peck – it wasn't a cloak she had chosen to play dress-up that she could shrug off, fold, and stuff back in the toy chest. If it were anything material at all, she thought, it might as well be a tattoo inked onto her at birth. PECK splashed blue on her breast bone.

"You could stay with one of your friends, you know. Take another night to sort things out." She dragged a finger down the spine of the book resting on her lap. "You could stay with me?"

Lips curled up in a tiny smile at that. "Thank you," Gail said. "I made my point though. I think. I've never really…disobeyed her before."

"She did seem forceful," Holly agreed. "The offer still stands though. If you want it. You can stay with me."

Gail nodded. She heard. She wouldn't accept, possibly ever, but the offer touched her and she pillowed her head on her hands and Holly returned to her book because she had nothing left to say on that topic, her offer sitting happily between them, and Gail took as long as she wanted to stare at Holly. Finally, feeling the weight of it on her face, Holly shifted and looked up.

"Are you admiring how pretty I am or did you want something?" she smirked.

Gail shrugged. "I was thinking."

"Must be painful for you," Holly sympathised. Gail half-heartedly lobbed a pillow in Holly's direction. It didn't land anywhere near the other girl and was viewed by both of them as a rather lame effort. "Wow. You really don't do sports, do you?" Gail smiled to herself. Oh, if only Holly knew. "Okay. So you were thinking?" she prompted.

"Yep."

"About what?"

"Stuff."

"God, it's torture with you." Gail grinned into her hands. "What kind of stuff?"

Gail shrugged again and fiddled with the ends of her sleeves. She brushed a strand of hair away from her face. "I have to go back to school Monday. When are we going to study?"

Holly frowned. "Oh. I hadn't thought about it." She pulled her phone out and checked her timetable. "I'm free Tuesday and Friday afternoons after four."

Gail had to rearrange a few things in her mind but nodded. "That'll work. Weekends?"

"I work here all weekend. College, remember?"

"Right. Do you…" Gail bit her lip. "Would, could I." She heaved a sigh and clenched her jaw shut for a moment. Paused. Tried again. "Would you call the police if, I don't know, I just happened to spend most of my weekend here?"

"Stalking me?" Holly grinned and returned to her book. "Should I be flattered or afraid?" Gail made a vague gesture with her hand that suggested a touch of both. "Gail, I'm pretty sure that we are friends. You can spend one hundred per cent of your weekends here with me and I would be okay with that." Gail mumbled a little and Holly nudged her with her shoe. "What was that?"

"Nothing." Holly glared at her. Gail huffed, sending a little hair fluttered before it settled again on her cheek. "I said, we… I don't know. We are friends. I guess. Ever since you helped me find the books I needed. Or whatever."

"I thought we were study buddies," Holly said quietly, automatically, while her brain was trying to get around the fact that Gail was suddenly being adorably shy and speaking into her hands and admitting that they – she and Holly! – were friends.

"We can be," Gail backtracked quickly. "Right. Study buddies."

"No! Friends is good," Holly blurted out. "Friends is good," she said again, nodding firmly when Gail looked sceptical.

"Fine. We're friends. I guess. I mean, you weren't my first choice," she said with a shrug and a sigh, "But you know. You win some, you lose some."

Holly narrowed her eyes. "Rude." A jab to Gail's ribs followed – lightly, because the girl was still bruised – and when she overbalanced and mostly rolled from her beanbag, Gail's hands shot out to steady her.

Steady Holly. Whose face was very close to hers. Gail's. Gail's face was close to Holly's. Gail's eyes flitted over Holly's face, examining the sharp nose, the little dent in the bridge there where her glasses rested, the arch of eyebrows and the cheeks that bunched up in a smile and her lips and Gail leant forward following some pulling string. She felt it corded in her wrists from where her fingers touched Holly's skin, felt it winding up and around biceps and through her shoulders and collarbones wrapping extra tight around her sternum and making a loop around her neck, following the line of her spine and hugging her hips, and when it tugged when it pulled she had to follow because it tightened against her bloodstream and made the blood pump unsteadily and was she getting enough blood to her brain? was she breathing at all? And she leant forward because her body demanded it of her and pressed her lips against Holly's cheek to the left of her lips and then retreated, falling slack into the beanbag and bringing her knees up, curling around herself.

Holly blinked and gaped. Her teeth clicked shut when she forcibly closed her mouth, not wanting to embarrass Gail or push her away. She noted the burgeoning red cheeks and the closed eyes hidden under wayward hair.

"Thanks," Holly said finally, whether for not letting her fall or for the kiss she didn't know. Lie. It was for the kiss. It was for not falling but it was for a newer type of falling that had everything to go with a cheek that felt it was glowing with a golden burning imprint of soft lips and a swooping in her stomach.

Gail snorted into the beanbag. "You're welcome," came her muffled reply.

Holly decided not to think too much on the kiss. It didn't mean anything. Only, it sort of meant everything. And not in the I-kissed-a-girl-and-I-liked-it kind of way. In the, this is a girl who doesn't express affection comfortably if at all and she just smiled at _me,_ kissed_ me_, accepted _me _as a friend. And that was the reason Holly's fingers shook as she turned the next page in her book.

"Want to learn about renal failure?" Holly asked when she could talk without her breath stopping short at the stupidly beautiful face that blinked at her from her side.

"Is it going to make me want to throw up?"

Holly paused, gnawed on her lip a little. "Maybe?"

"Swell. Just what I've always wanted. Go ahead." Gail snuggled into her seat – she seriously had to get one of these for her bedroom, she was so comfortable – and blinked wide blue eyes over at the brunette. The girl wasn't feeling the same shortness of breath or electric-sting she was on her lips and that was okay. Maybe if she knew what it meant, she would have wanted Holly to feel it but since she was blissfully unaware or purposefully ignorant she just revelled in the pleasantness of the day and the company.

She sighed out into the space and smiled. It was safe here. Warm. Just like it had been the first time she had stumbled into it. Only now, Gail knew, the warmth she felt was Holly's, not the store's, a latent sunshine she carried with her on her skin and spread to the glow of burnished brass doorknobs and worn bookshelves and novels that smelt like summer and pages like crinkled leaves.

"Okay." Holly cleared her throat. "So. Renal failure is…"

* * *

"You really can stay with me tonight, if you want," Holly offered as she closed up the store. Gail sat on the countertop as the brunette counted out the notes and coins from the till, marked some papers, and stuffed it all into the safe.

"No." Gail looked down at her phone. No calls or messages waited for her there. "I have to go home."

They wandered out of Duke's together – Holly sending a cheery wave to Vic, who grunted and swigged from a nondescript bottle Gail was fairly sure he shouldn't be drinking from, and Hans – and Holly looked like she wanted to push. She wanted to kidnap Gail and take her home and feed her and tuck her up safe and warm in a bad but she couldn't do any of those things so instead she walked shoulder to shoulder with Gail until they reached her car and then wrapped her fingers around the strap of one bag and placed it in her backseat. "Come on," she said with a jerk of her head and a smile, "I'll drive you."

"My house or yours?" Gail asked, narrowed eyes suspicious.

"Yours." She perked up. "Unless you want to stay at mine?"

"No. My house."

"Fine," Holly grumbled. She drove, taking the turns that Gail pointed out. When they did arrive at the house, Holly gripped tight to the steering wheel. "Text me when you get in. Just so I know you're okay."

Gail huffed. "They'd never hurt me." Her tone was confident. That, at least, physically that was true. And she doubted that her mother had ever thought of what she had done as hurting her.

"Still," Holly insisted. "I'm not leaving until you text me."

"You," she said, hopping out of the car, "are a giant nerd. Do whatever you like." Gail hesitated after she grabbed her bags. She crouched a little and, leaning her arms along the window, looked in and sighed. "Will I see you tomorrow?"

Holly grimaced. "Actually, my mom is taking me and Luce to visit our aunt. It's out of the city and we'll be gone till late."

"Oh." Gail chewed on that for a minute before patting the car in goodbye and walking toward her house.

Holly swore under her breath. "Gail!" she called out, leaning over to call out the window. The blonde faltered and turned. "Text me?" She saw a shrug. "Text me!" she called again and this time it wasn't a question.

Gail entered the house and looked around. Empty. She checked each room. Empty, empty, empty. Then, finally, she came to her mother's study and a warm light framed the door and she could hear from within the scratch of pen on paper and she took in a deep breath, knocking with a crooked knuckle. The scratching stopped. The door yielded under a light touch and Elaine looked up into the open space, at her daughter, over half-rim glasses and attempted a smile.

"Gail," she greeted. "Good evening."

"Mother."

"Will you be staying here tonight?" she asked. Gail might have missed the slight quaver in her tone if she hadn't been straining her ears to catch everything. The slightest disapproval, anger, whatever, would have had her defences up tight.

"Yes."

"I'm glad. There are, I think, a few things that we should discuss. I understand if you would like to wait until tomorrow?" Elaine offered. Her hands spread open a little, the pen drooped to the table top, in a gesture that made Gail settle in the chair opposite her because it was uncertain and tentative and her mother had never been those things in front of her before and maybe this meant something good for her, something positive between the two of them. Maybe they could talk like they were meant to – like two people, or like mother and daughter, or like any combination of two people in which one of them didn't feel like absolute shit when the other was finished.

But first she pulled her phone out. _My mother is home. You can leave now._

_Will you be okay?_ Holly's reply came instantly.

_Yes_. Then, remembering the kiss – it had been friendly, she reassured herself, and Holly hadn't seemed to mind. It had just _fit _into the moment and she couldn't bring herself to regret it or understand it so she didn't bother she just knew that it had been right – she added _Goodnight, nerd_.

_Goodnight kitten_. She could feel Holly's satisfaction at giving her a nickname – no doubt likening her habits of following the slab of sunlight and curling up and stretching and aloof demeanour – and sighed in mixed exasperation and amusement. This girl didn't let up even once, didn't let the snark touch her. She liked it.

_Meow._

"Gail?" Elaine's voice was quiet as it intruded on the space her daughter had forged between herself and her phone. Gail blinked up at her, wary. "Would you care to talk now?"

"Why? Am I distracting? Wasting too much of your time?"

Elaine looked down at the pages in front of her, not to see the words, just to duck her head against the hard words. "No. Of course not."

It wasn't like her mother to surrender. So Gail, though she might have wanted to retreat to her room, nodded her head and pulled her feet up underneath her. "You can…we can talk now. If you want."

"I would like that."

**Okay there we go. I have a bit of the next chapter planned so it'll be up eh at some point. Let me know what you thought. I love reviews and they make my writing better and faster, just so you know. Oh, and I love people to talk to – I'm unicyclehippo on tumblr as well if you didn't know. You probably did. Oh - I'm writing a dragon rider AU for Golly. It's called Here Be Dragons. I might put that up soon as well. This fandom is seriously ruining any chances of my graduating so thanks for that. Anyway, happy reading, Readers :)**


	10. Chapter 10

**How The Light Gets In: Chapter Ten**

**I don't own Rookie Blue.**

**Please enjoy. (Vulgarity ahoy.)**

_A daughter is a mother's gender partner, her closest ally in the family confederacy, an extension of herself. And mothers are their daughters' role model, their biological and emotional road map, the arbiter of all their relationships.—Secunda _

* * *

It wouldn't surprise one to know that in a less busy period of Elaine Peck's life – before, indeed, she _was_ a Peck – she enjoyed gardening. She enjoyed carving out a slice of area with an idea in mind. Breaking it down into neat rows, ordered and labelled, and planting and nurturing it with everything it needed, which was only sunlight and water and perhaps a touch of additional fertilizer when necessary. She liked the methodical movement of erecting fences and the smooth glide of a gate that let her and _only_ her into that space that she had built. She liked to see her ideas and her care yield results.

And so this conversation was one that she didn't being straight away. She straightened the papers on her desk and slotted them into Important and For Later. She placed her pen in its holder. Then she slid the glasses from her nose, folded its arms flat, and returned them to their case. Desk cleared, prepared, thoughts then meticulously in order, Elaine folded her hands in front of her and appraised her daughter with cautious eyes.

_Anytime now_, Gail couldn't help but think. And swallowed the words before they could even start to form because her mother's frown was stamped like a hieroglyph on her forehead and the atmosphere, though not heavy or dangerous or sparking between them as it sometimes could, was weighted. Waiting.

"I have been thinking," Elaine began. "I have raised you to be an intelligent, capable, strong young woman and I am proud of that."

She raised a hand, halting Gail's words before they came tumbling out. Her expression – still stern yet yielding, perhaps, in some way that Gail wasn't familiar with – asked for time. Just a little, it said. Just a little time to plot out my thoughts so that I might show them to you, so that you and I can walk the path together and you can understand my position. Understand it my way. Let show you.

"I am _proud_," she said, "of you. But I can also see," and here she nodded to herself and wet her lips, "how I may have erred. How I _did_ err."

Gail released the breath she was holding tight in her lungs and let it whisper out, and her hands twisted together in her lap unclenched and brushed flat, sweaty palms along denim-clad thighs. She tried not to disturb this dreamlike state she felt she was drifting within because, if she was not very much mistaken and a pinch to her own arm made her think that she was not, her mother was apologising to her. Or making some speech to that effect.

"There are things I have expected of you beyond that of what may have been strictly reasonable." And yes, Elaine wasn't wholly comfortable with coming outright and saying 'I was stupid' or 'yep, I made a mistake' but Gail had been taught to read between the lines since she could see lines let alone read and these were some thick lines her mother was laying down and they were each and every one of them caging in that same feeling of she's sorry she's sorry keep listening but she's sorry. "I have treated you too much like an adult," she said. She paused, making eye contact with Gail that was steady but also a question – could she stop yet? Did Gail understand?

But Gail was in no hurry to stop her or interject – she wanted to hear more, actually, so she just inclined her head slightly in a _go on_ nod.

"You are not a child anymore but I have treated you as an adult long before I should have and, while I thought it was confidence in you, a testament to your abilities and my faith in your readiness to tackle any situation, I understand that it may have seemed to lack a certain feeling, a certain softness that is expected toward children. I could have assisted you more. I should have expected you to be able to care for yourself entirely – that was not your job but rather it was mine. And I should…I should have taken more time to understand what it was that you wanted.

Gail blinked steadily back at her mother and kept her face still.

She hoped that she hid it well. Hoped that she was convincing in pretending like the words weren't slamming into her and gouging great gashes into her, like she wasn't afraid of going into shock. Like she wasn't afraid of having all of her slip out from the cracks being split open; she was slipping out though and flooding the room with herself or so it felt and her mother was right there and was she blind to it or could she see it all was that exactly what she wanted? To burrow under the guard Gail had built up long ago – apparently ineffective – against her mother's words, and to step into or over everything that was Gail Peck. No. Maybe? No. No. But regardless, Gail's skin was paper and these words were bricks thrown haphazard and landing with rips and tears and she just had to breathe and hold on a little longer. Her mother continued.

"What you said to me at the station." A breath. "It was well deserved," Elaine admitted. Her eyes fell to her desk and she touched with one reaching finger a crooked edge of paper. Gail watched it carefully because _that_ right there was fidgeting and her mother did not fidget. "Some of the things I have said in the past were unkind. And untrue." Her finger tapped at that crooked edge. "I…you are a Peck, Gail. And I am very proud of you. I always have been."

"So why?" Gail stamped out. That was her contribution, her boundary, stamped firm into the room. No backing down. Answer-me-that eyes stared resolutely back into forgive-me blues. "Because I don't feel like you're proud when you hold me up against Steve and tell me in detail all the ways I've failed to live up to those soaring standards you have for me." Elaine's mouth tightened. Anger or hurt? "And I don't feel that you are proud when you ignore me or leave me in the wilderness to find my way home or _next to a crack house_," Gail's voice whipped out, harsh. She hoped it left marks.

Elaine nodded. "I am sorry."

Gail bit her lip. "I'm not a cadet, mother." She looked down at her hands, knuckles white as they clenched tight. "I'm not a soldier or an employee or a rookie," she continued. "I'm your daughter. The other kids I know? They don't have to deal with this stuff. They don't even have to go running in the mornings if they don't want to. And, you know," she blurted out because she had been surprised to learn this, "discussing the surprise twelve mile run isn't part of their family monthly dinners. And they eat dinner together a lot, actually. Some of them every night. Most of them don't have to schedule a dinner to eat together. Oh and some people? They cook together and then they sit down and talk about their day and what they want to do on the weekend and I don't know about any of that stuff because I basically haven't seen you at dinner since we moved here." Gail let out a small, soft laugh that sounded confused and she wanted to say 'how crazy is that' but she knew that she was the outlier and it made her laugh stop and her eyes return to her hands and her mouth close because maybe she'd said too much and pushed too far. Her mother frowned.

"It will change, Gail."

She stood then, carefully and slowly, like Gail was liable to jump up and sprint out if she moved too fast she didn't want to spook her – and who knew? maybe Gail would run out. She moved around her desk and sat in the second chair, next to Gail. She was still straight-backed and square-shouldered but she did reach out tentatively into the space between them and, when Gail just looked at the offered hand, let it fall limp into her lap.

"I would…if you are willing to hear it, that is, I would like to talk to you about something. It is related. I hope that it will help you to understand, to understand." There was a small aborted gesture that Elaine made with her hand that Gail understood as 'help you to understand_ me_' and, though the idea of promises drenched in guilt and maybe minor self-flagellation sounded nice, Gail knew she should hear her out.

Gail shrugged. It was a gesture that had, in the past, irked Elaine and she wanted to see how much she could get away with. It did nothing but make the elder eyes tighten very slightly, almost imperceptibly, crinkling at the edges.

"Thank you," she said with a grateful dip of her head. "As you know, I came from a family of six children. All of them boys, except for me." Gail nodded. "My mother was hard on us. And rightfully so. My father died when I was seven and god knows my brothers were unruly enough." She chuckled a little and Gail started with surprise because, and how sad was that she thought to herself, she wasn't sure that she had heard her mother laugh before. Or at least not like that. Genuinely. Like it came from her chest, her belly, where those organic feelings grew, rather than her nose or head where they were cultured and made to impress or charm.

She spoke for a time about her brothers – Jackson, who fought, and Bobby who drank, and Theodore who died when she was sixteen, and Zach who joined the army, and Hank and Hugo who were as alike as brothers could be and who followed the same happy paths into marriage and fatherhood.

"She tried her best," is what she told Gail. "My mother was stern and tough and life wasn't always kind but we always had enough to eat and we always knew what needed to be done and what was expected and it was up to each of us to reach those marks or not." Elaine spread her hands slightly, encouraging Gail to see where she was coming from. "I saw how she kept my brothers in line so I knew how to handle Steve," is what she said. "I knew that he needed to be fed and watered and let loose and he would grow. And he did."

Thoughtful eyes settled on Gail's face and she tried not to let it bother her, she did, but even with these new and rather terrifying words her mother was saying, those eyes felt the same. Counting. Calculating. A whirring mind locked behind the blue and Gail felt herself taking a step back away from all of this because there was something…something out of reach and she didn't know what but all of this was so much – she couldn't remember the last time she had learnt something about her mother that wasn't the date of an award or the details of an arrest – and she was trying to sort it into the right boxes in her mind.

"But then you came around and I didn't know what to do. You were, you _are_, so different, Gail. To me, to your brother, and I never had a model for that. To show me what to do. And I'm afraid that I never did very well with my attempts at helping you." She looked down and nodded to herself. Gail thought it rather looked like her mother was giving herself a pep talk. "I would like to apologise. I understand now how it must have seemed. I will try to do better, to be better. For you." The words were coming slowly and stilted. But they were coming. "I saw my actions as help, as guidance, as my mother did. You are my daughter and I…this is the only way I know how to be a mother. I don't want to waste your potential. But if you feel like it is hurting you then it isn't right, I understand that. I will try to learn with you, if that would be acceptable?"

Elaine looked up then and Gail felt the full force of her eyes – blue like hers, like hers, mother to daughter a bond she couldn't break did she want to break it? – and felt the weight of the decision resting with her, on her shoulders and chest and stomach and head and neck all at once and then shifting, pushing her off balance. There was that tightening in her chest. The churning stomach. Oh so familiar and terrible. That expectation. The choice, branching roads – delay, accept, reject, confront – leading down paths equally murky and non particularly tempting. She blinked. Tore her eyes away from her mother's. Those eyes weren't pleading. Elaine wasn't a woman to plead least of all to her daughter. But they were expectant as always and Gail could feel her teeth grinding – indecision, worry, stress, eating at her, grinding her down.

There was an answer. It sat on her tongue. She should say it. She _wanted_ to say it. And she didn't.

She wanted to say it because that PECK blue tattoo was important to her, it always had been. She wasn't blind to the honour it awarded her family.

But she didn't want to say it. It felt so much like she was giving herself back gift wrapped a pretty red bow on top handing herself back to her mother and then the choice wasn't hers anymore, it was her mothers. And her mother's choice was simple: accept or reject. Her. Accept or reject her. Gail.

She turned away that thought because now, finally, bond acknowledged mother to daughter, she had to be accepted. All she had to do was say it.

"Okay."

Elaine let out a small breath. A sigh, really. Relief. Gail smiled when she smiled. Stood when she stood.

"Thank you, Gail."

And that was that. They stood awkwardly until Elaine returned to her desk and Gail returned to her room and she didn't know what her mother was doing – feeling a burst of warmth, perhaps, at a victory – but she was standing in the centre of her room and hating herself.

There was a drawing, Lucy's drawing, sitting in her hand and Gail looked at it and wished. Wished that she had said other things.

Things like:

I'm important too. Me. As a person.

Not just potential.

I want to have friends. I want to spend time with them and feel like I'm good enough for once so I can relax, so I can laugh and fight and let myself feel that tickle that sits in my throat when affection comes calling and I want to save him and I want to open up and not worry that I'm dark that I'm bad that I'm a failure that I can do things and those things will be appreciated not only for the success but for the action the attempt.

I want to be me and I want that to be enough for you.

But her mother had said, caution gone from her tone, "Close the door, won't you, Gail?" and she had. The moment had passed, it was gone. And Gail felt like she had dropped the ball and it was rolling, it was rolling faster (she had to sit down her head was spinning) and maybe it was going in a good direction? But maybe her mother would stop it with a booted foot. She didn't know. She just knew that she had missed an opportunity to throw it – and sure, the ball could have hit a glass window and shattered into unsalvageable and cutting pieces and she could have torn herself up on those, but it could have fallen safe into waiting hands and lobbed back and forth confidently and the game could have gone on.

Gail rested her hands on her bed. She stared at the wall opposite her. Then she tucked Lucy's drawing into her bedside table, safe. Then lay down. Then drew her blanket over herself, over her head, and urged her eyes to close in the dark and to sink down into sweet slumber because then tomorrow would come faster and then she would be put out of her misery and she would know what the outcome of tonight had been.

She hoped it was good.

* * *

Sunday morning came around and no one was home. But there was milk in the fridge and a note underneath a magnet someone had found somewhere.

_After consideration, you may return to 6m run. _

She supposed she should be grateful. No more eight mile runs.

That was something.

She should be grateful because breakfast wasn't a scrambled semblance of a meal and she could actually make cereal with the milk.

She should be grateful because she had been left a note and she had been on her mother's mind and that was good. Right?

But then she couldn't understand why, then, her chest felt so low and strange and her shoulders dipped and feet dragged so much so that she was looking out on the words and the oddest things felt familiar like grey clouds sitting squat in the distance and drooping leaves and a letterbox sitting askew on its pole and—she shook her hair out. Retied it. Pulled on her running shoes.

Fuck. Fuck the six mile run. Fuck the course her mother had chosen. The vulgarity made her feel better – more so because she actually _meant_ it. Fuck grey clouds. Fuck you, pain in the knees and fuck you danger of falling on gravel and an especially big _fuck you_ to that dog that was easily bigger than she was and whose teeth were the size of her whole palm but who thought it was a great fun game to chase her down the street when she ran past and slobber at her heels and send her heart rate skyrocketing until she reached the safety of her home, making her want to cry more than she already had that morning.

Right. Fuck you, failure of a run. Didn't cheer her up in the slightest.

And her phone! Fuck that. She wanted to text Holly, to spend time with Holly, to sit in a stupid store with the girl who despite being an _enormous fucking nerd_ was stupidly pretty and had the nicest voice ever and she just wanted to sit there and she couldn't because Holly was away and she was at here home and since when did she rely on other people anyway?

She paced up and down the hallway, heart still jackhammering her ribs from the fright of that monstrous dog, and shook her hands out from their clenched fists.

She slammed some doors. It made her feel better.

She considered texting someone else, then. They were a distant afterthought to Holly – who, and Gail didn't know how exactly she had done it, had pulled out way ahead of the pack in terms of 'people Gail reluctantly dubbed friends'. Could she message Chloe? No. Dov? No. He'd be attached to Chloe by the hand or lips or something equally disgusting. Chris?

Chris. Maybe. But Chris had issues of his own and she did not want to bowl him over with hers – and hers weren't even issues anyway, they were just sad thoughts and pessimistic thinking and really truly not worth considering issues at all, right? – when she should be helping him.

So Gail found she was doing nothing at all. She stood under the shower for a time, trying to drown out yammering thoughts, and it was only the trill of her phone that dragged her out from underneath.

_Gail, it's Traci Nash_, the unknown number's message read. Gail lowered her phone to her bed again and thought about answering as she shucked her towel and dressed. Then she sat cross-legged on her bed and stared at her phone again.

She hadn't said officer, so Gail probably wasn't in trouble. Maybe she needed something though.

_Hey_, Gail replied.

_Would it be all right if I picked you up?_ Traci's response was almost instant and Gail shrugged until she remembered that it was a message and Traci couldn't see her.

_Why?_

_I wanted to show you something. If that's okay?_

_Fine._ And she included her address, though Traci could have filched it from her file, and sat on the front steps of her house because an empty house was something she particularly didn't want to think about for at least a little while.

"Hey!" the woman called out from her car. "Were you waiting long?" Gail shook her head no, standing, and with hands shoved deep into her pockets, she moved to slide into the passenger seat. "I just got off morning shift and there is…" Traci took in a deep breath. Her hands tightened on the steering wheel. "I had to apologise to you," she breathed out, wide eyes beseeching. "I'm really sorry about yesterday and you totally didn't deserve the way I snapped at you. I was nervous about Jerry meeting Leo and, ugh, my head was just a mess."

"It's fine," Gail said.

"No. It isn't. Which is why," she said, excited, "I thought maybe you'd like to come with me and Leo to the park." Gail frowned. "I want to hang out with my little man and my favourite intern." Gail managed a smile and Traci frowned. Her hand moved over to touch Gail's shoulder. "Is everything okay?"

"Yeah. Yeah," she said a second time, slightly more convincing. "Just working some stuff out." She shrugged the hand off as politely as she could and leant back into the seat. "Which park?"

"You know," Traci said thoughtfully, throwing the car into drive, "I don't know if it even has a name? Leo and I just call it the park. It's just down the street from our apartment so it's our park."

Gail nodded. "Does it have swings?"

"Yep. And a slide and a sandpit and monkey bars." Traci grinned over at the girl. "Good enough for you?"

"We'll see."

They parked opposite the playground and Gail slipped out, following Traci over to the play area. A small boy of about nine or ten immediately sprinted over and threw his arms around Traci's legs and she dropped into a crouch and hugged him tight.

"Ugh," she grunted, "I missed you so much, baby." He feigned disgust and started to pull away. Then he noticed Gail and flung himself back into his mother's arms to whisper in her ear, no doubt about the staring, pale woman. Traci waved Gail closer.

"Leo, this is my friend Gail. Gail, my son Leo."

Gail stuffed her hands in her pockets before realising that looking like the most anti-social version of herself wouldn't win a kid over. She tried out a smile. "Hey."

"Hey," he said back. "How old are you?"

"How old are you?"

"I asked you first." His childish frown said everything: I asked you first, you have to answer me, those are the rules.

"Seventeen. You?"

"I'm almost ten."

"So, you're nine."

"I'm almost _ten_."

"No," she corrected, grinning, "you are _almost_ ten. Which means that you are nine." Leo crossed his arms and his brows dipped in a frown. Gail, not one to back down from a child, crossed her arms and smirked.

"Are you a cop?"

"No. Are you?"

"No. My mom is though. And she's going to be a detective and catch all the bad guys."

Gail nodded. She had heard Traci was up for rotation. "Cool. Do you want the swings or the slide?"

Leo turned and, lips scrunching thoughtfully to the side, said "slide" even as he was running over to it.

"Dirty cheater," Gail mumbled, and slunk over to the swings. Traci laughed and joined her.

"You're good with children," she noted.

"It helps when I'm basically a child myself." She kicked at the ground. "Plus, you know, he's cool."

"Yes. Yes he is. Though," she admitted, "I am a little biased. Being his mother and all that." Traci waved when Leo waved excitedly from the top of the slide. She watched him like a hawk as he slid down and then climbed up the structure again. "Gail? Do you want to talk about it?"

"About what?" She pushed with her feet and set her swing into motion.

"Yesterday? With your mother?"

"Nope." She popped the 'p' loudly and dragged her boots along the ground, enjoying the sound and feel and look of the dirt scattering under her.

"Okay." The chains clinked as Traci turned her swing to face Gail a little and she nudged the girl's ankle. "But hey, if you do?" She waited until Gail looked up. "There's me and there's Ollie and there's Andy."

"Andy's a bitch."

"You love her."

"Eh." Gail shrugged.

"We'll listen. If you want to talk." Traci turned away then and, seeing Leo beckoning her, moved to his side to play. Gail was grateful for that because a lump the size of Jupiter had lodged in her throat and she had to kick at the ground for a while and swallow roughly a few dozen times before it dislodged and she was able to breathe properly again.

"Hey, Gail!" Leo jogged up in front of her. "Do you like Halo?" he asked. And running and playing had made his eyes even brighter and he looked so happy and energetic that Gail couldn't help the small, happy smile she sent back when she nodded.

"Yeah. But I'm amazing at it so I'll whoop your butt." She jumped off the swing and stuffed hands in pockets. "I hope you got cushions because you'll need them by the time I'm done with you."

Leo laughed loudly and he grabbed her wrist. "Come on. Let's play." He turned back and yelled over his shoulder. "MOM!" Traci came running. "Gail and I are going to play Halo."

"Uh-oh. Go easy on her, kid," she warned, carding fingers through his hair. Her eyes, however, said 'go easy on my son' to Gail, who ignored it. She was amazing. He would learn.

And he did. She killed him again and again and again and then when he got his first headshot as she rolled from behind a barrel, she paused the game, high-fived him, and Traci watched with wide-eyes as her son fell more and more in friendship with the prickly girl, returning her high-five and learning trash talk and sharing his chips with her.

* * *

"I really am sorry," she said again as she dropped Gail home late that afternoon. "For yesterday."

"Whatever." Gail shrugged. It was long forgotten. She peered out the car window at her house – the windows were all dark even as the shadows lengthened – and stifled a sigh. Empty. "Hey," Gail said, lengthing the time that passed before she had to leave. "If you need, I don't know, a sitter or whatever?" She shrugged again. "Leo isn't terrible. As kids go, he's mediocre. Okay he's cool," she admitted when Traci raised her brows and the ease with which she admitted it made Traci laugh.

"He is. And he likes you too so I will keep that in mind." Traci looked at the darkened house as well and she pursed her lips. "Are you going to be okay?"

Gail wondered whether Traci could read minds. It seemed like a skill mother's were or should be given when their children are born. She nodded. "Yeah."

"I can stay, if you want?"

"No. No way. You have to get back to Leo."

"He's with my mom and he'll understand." Traci looked again at the house and sighed. "I'm just worried, Gail."

"Yeah. I know. But it's not a big deal." She was stepping out of the car then and shaking her head when Traci made to go with her because she didn't need help, it wasn't necessary, and she would be fine. "You're, um, you're a good mom. Really good," Gail said quietly. Because Traci had been worrying and she'd been tormented for being a teen mom and maybe that was something that mothers wanted to hear from time to time. And it was true. Gail had watched the two – Traci and Leo – interact all day and couldn't drag her eyes away because it was unfamiliar and delicate and it felt like it was a blink-and-you'll-miss-it sort of love but it looked so easy on Traci and Leo and natural. Plus, Gail was a bit of a masochist and there was nothing like being reminded of what a mother-child relationship ought to look like when you weren't sure about whether your own mother cared at all.

She patted the car in goodbye and entered her home. She checked all the empty rooms out of habit. Dinner was cereal – it was still only milk that held a coveted spot in the fridge.

_How is your aunt?_ Gail sent to Holly, curled up tight under her blankets. She sent it before she could think about the fact that, what the hell? She didn't send nice texts to anyone. Ever. About anything. Or questions that didn't revolve around her. For instance, 'when will you be bringing me donuts?' She clutched her phone tight in her hand and, when it didn't beep immediately in reply, chucked it down to the foot of her bed where her bag was waiting for school and Monday.

**I'm not sure about this one. I really super didn't want to screw it up because I know a bunch of people were looking forward to it. So, if you didn't like it let me know and I'll go back and edit it. And if you did like it let me know so that I can sleep. Happy reading, readers :)**


	11. Chapter 11

**How The Light Gets In: Chapter Eleven**

**I don't own Rookie Blue.**

**Please enjoy.**

_Loneliness and the feeling of being unwanted is the most terrible poverty.-Mother Theresa_

* * *

As it turns out, putting your phone in your bag at the bottom of the bed and pulling a blanket up over your head to muffle all sounds isn't the guaranteed best way to ensure that you'll wake up on time – especially when your phone is your alarm.

So, when Gail's phone started buzzing and trilling in the bottom of her bag, Gail slept blissfully on, unaware and unconcerned. Her body clock jerked her awake at a quarter past seven, too late to go for her run but plenty of time to get ready she assumed. Incorrectly. It was then that she discovered that there were no towels, no laundry had been done, her hair was particularly unhelpful and, by the time she arrived at the bus stop, she found that road works were in place up and down her street and around the suburb, making her sprint for the stop ten streets over. And thus began her no good week, which went mostly downhill from there.

Monday was a disaster.

When she _did _arrive at school, she was excused from being marked tardy only thanks to her most charming smile and a quick explanation. Mostly because of the explanation. And because the road works had affected ten other people in her class so everyone was given some leniency there. So, really, it had nothing at all to do with her charming smile at all. She didn't miss any of the information from class but she did miss her morning catch up with Dov and Chris and Chloe and the lack of her getting a run in that morning had left her feeling off balance and out of sorts.

Head down, working hard, she ploughed her way through the morning and ignored the feeling of an impending wrongness. It only grew as she approached the lunchroom and, while she hoped it was just a growling stomach – and now she remembered she hadn't had time to eat breakfast either – and it didn't mean anything, it was the same uneasy feeling that something bad was going to happen that had flooded her when Dov was busy getting his ass kicked.

She hoped that Dov wasn't in a fight. She just wanted a nice, peaceful first day back at school after her suspension and some food. She also hoped, along that train of thought, that Chloe hadn't brought in a new recipe for them to try out because she was running out of ways to say that baking was not Chloe's vocation.

The idea that it was Chris in trouble – because Chloe _would _be in trouble if she brought in some foul concoction, Gail would make sure of that – had never crossed her mind. Of course she knew that he was having trouble but that knowledge and the sight of him sitting at their table looking like he had been used for target practice – black and blue, split lip, swollen eye – didn't mesh properly in her mind.

Gail didn't make it to the lunch table. In fact, her tray dropped to the floor with a loud clatter that drew eyes to her but Gail didn't connect the sound with her suddenly empty hands. The suddenly empty hands that grasped for her phone as she stared at the half-bruise, half-boy in her line of sight.

She pressed speed dial without a second thought. It was a call she never thought she would willingly make but, then again, how much of a choice did she really have?

"Elaine Peck," came the smooth voice.

"Mother," Gail greeted.

"Gail. Aren't you supposed to be in school?"

"I am. I have a problem." Her voice was sharp and just a touch nervous and perhaps it was the surprise of Gail coming to her for help or perhaps she really was trying to be more of a mother-like figure but whatever it was, Gail heard her mother drop whatever she was doing and recognised the sudden directness of tone as the full attention of Elaine Peck.

"Go ahead."

"I have a friend. Chris Diaz. He's come to school looking like…" Gail glanced up and over him. "A checkerboard."

"I see." Elaine hummed her concern. Gail could hear keyboard tiles clicking. "Is this the first time?"

"No. The third time that I've seen."

"Hmm." Gail knew what that sound meant. _You should have brought it to someone's attention before now. _But what was done was done and she was doing it now so Elaine just sighed instead of saying it – she knew all too well from all her years that there were reasons people didn't talk, reasons that people hid abuse of all kinds from everyone around them – and she nodded on her end of the line and gestured to her secretary to take the note she had just scrawled out.

"I'll get someone on it," she promised. As she went to hang up, a thought occurred to her and Elaine paused. "Gail? Does your friend know that you have called me?"

"I – no. He doesn't." Gail crossed her arms and sighed. Crap.

"Well then, and I am sorry Gail, but you may need to prepare yourself. He may see it as meddling and may not be happy about it."

Gail swallowed. "As long as he is safe, I don't care what he thinks about me." She smiled a tiny smile. "But thanks. For telling me."

Elaine approved of her daughter's protective attitude and she hung up with a "I will call you back once I've organised something" and Gail strode on to their table where her friends were watching her, utterly confused.

She sat, silent and brooding. Should she mention something? Should she tell Chris what she'd done? Gail contemplated not telling him, letting him return back to his home and find out that the police had been there and…but no. She couldn't do that to him. It would be terrifying to find out that his home had been violated and she had been the direct cause of it and she hadn't told him.

She caught snippets of conversation. The one that grabbed her attention was Dov, mumbling around a sandwich, saying, "and Chris is staying over at mine for a bit, so I was thinking we could all get pizza and have a movie night."

Chris is staying over at mine. Chris. At Dov's house. Chris couldn't stay in his own house – for obvious black and blue and blood red reasons – and Gail sighed, knowing what she had to do.

"Chris?"

He swallowed. Looked sick. Dov glanced up from his plate in surprise – was she going to mention Chris's injuries? He had explicitly told her never to do that. Ever. He opened his mouth to speak but, when Gail caught his eyes and fixed him with a blank stare that sucked his words right out of his lungs, he found that he couldn't.

"Can we," she froze. She couldn't do this. She couldn't. She should just wait and he would find out anyway. Gail looked down at her phone that she kept turning over and over and over in her hands. The screen lit up and a picture – covertly taken probably by Chloe of her, Gail, reclining on Chris's lap and smiling as he pulled a face– was illuminated. She sighed again. "Can we go outside for a second?"

"Yeah," he mumbled. Put aside his fork, which he'd mostly been using to nudge the food around on his plate anyway. His teeth probably hurt. Jaw too. Maybe it hurt to swallow.

By the time they reached the field, stepping out onto the springy grass, the green tinge still hadn't faded from around his lips and Gail almost felt bad about doing this until she remembered that he was being beaten there and she was, hopefully, putting an end to that.

"So," he said, aiming for casual. He shifted his weight from leg to leg and it made him look like a four year old who needed the bathroom; what it told Gail was that his ribs were injured, cracked maybe or broken, and he couldn't find a way to stand that was comfortable.

"So," she copied him. She folded her phone over and over in her hand, finding comfort in the way it thunked into her palm. "I called my mother. About ten minutes ago." Chris froze. She had no doubt that Dov had told them who Elaine Peck was. Perhaps they had even peered over her awards together at some point, pointing out the commendation for taking down the Blood Bag Killer, or any other of her numerous awards.

"You two have, uh, been getting along then?" he asked. He scratched his nose. Looked up at the field posts and down at the white border to the field and over at the water fountain and just barely, briefly, a glance at Gail's face where he would have seen slight guilt and fear and worry overlaying everything else, and then away again at some distant point.

"We're working on it," she said slowly. Coward, she chastised herself. Tell him. Tell him now. "But that's not why I called her. You look bad, Chris."

"It's fine," he shrugged away automatically. "You should see the other guy."

"I do. I really do want to see him. In jail and in handcuffs," she growled.

That must have been enough to tip him off. His shoulders stiffened – more, in fact, than they were already stiffened thanks to the pain – and his puppy eyes widened in shock. "Gail," he said softly.

"It's not right, Chris. For you to be scared to go home."

"Gail, please. Tell me you didn't."

"I told her what's been going on," Gail said.

"No, Gail," he begged. "Everything is fine." Chris lunged towards her and caught her hand, the one holding her phone, and wrapped it in both of his. He crouched a little, meeting her eyes. "Everything is fine. Please. Call her back." He pushed the phone towards her, cradling it carefully. "Please. Call your mom and tell her. It's _fine._"

"I can't," Gail whispered. "It's not okay, Chris."

"You don't know what-"

"I know enough. The second I saw something was wrong I should have told but I didn't because Dov told me not to but, Chris," Gail wriggled her hand free, out of his hands that were slowly pressing harder and harder into her skin not through any conscious desire to hurt her but from shock, and she touched his shoulder. He jumped backward and began to pace. "Chris, this isn't okay. I had to tell her. I _had _to."

"No. You didn't."

"I did. It's not right. Whatever is happening is"

"That's right. _Whatever _is happening – you don't even fucking know! You don't know _anything_." He grabbed at his hair in big fistfuls and pulled, bending over at his waist, groaning his distress in a yell that made the hairs on Gail's neck prickle. She reached out but he stepped out of reach again. "Don't touch me!" Chris shook his head quickly and focused his glare on her. "You think because your mom is a cop that you know best? Better than me?"

"No, I was"

"Better than Dov? Because he's my best mate, Gail. He's known me for years and he knows how to deal with this."

"By not saying anything? By letting you crash at his house whenever it gets really bad? That's not _helping,_ Chris! That's just delaying it. You need to be somewhere safe permanently, where you don't have to worry!" She reached out a tiny distance, fingers twitching with a phantom wish to comfort. "I was trying to help."

"Well you shouldn't. It's not like you're any good at it – you can't even fix your own goddamn problems."

Gail bit own hard on her tongue to stop from snapping at her friend. This was a volatile reaction from the normally cool and collected Chris but this whole thing with his mother and the bruises…she wasn't sure what exactly had been going on but she knew it was bad. And she understood lashing out when confused or hurt. So instead of lashing back, she took in three breaths and made sure that her eyes, her face, her entire body, projected calm.

"Look, Chris, I'm sorry," she said firmly. "I'm sorry that this has happened. But I'm not sorry that I called my mother. She can _help_ you."

"You ever think I don't want help?"

Gail looked over his face and her heart sunk. "You should. You're bruised from head to toe and I'm really not interested in coming to school wondering whether you'll have a broken arm today or a bloody lip again. Or whether you'll be there at all." She closed her eyes – at times like these, it really didn't help that she had memorised statistics. Domestic violence rose almost directly with the age of the abused… Acceleration from bruising to broken bones… Sixty-seven per cent of cases not reported until hospitalisation occurred… "These things accelerate, Chris, they get worse," she managed to say, pushing down the information that was flooding her brain with worry. "And I am _not_ going to let that happen to you."

"Oh yeah. Great," he snorted. "Good job, Peck." He turned away sharply and kicked at the grass, slamming his foot down into it. "This is what you always do, isn't it?" he growled, glancing up at her with dark eyes. "Make everything about you. Really good at it, Peck. _You_ can't stand to see it. _You_ don't want to worry. You, you, _you_." Chris's hands clenched into tight fists and he barked a laugh. "Well you know what? _You_," he spat, advancing on her until he towered over her. She stood her ground barely, only due to that hard steel core that nailed her in place and said _don't you dare back down, Peck_. "You can be your own goddamn friend because I'm not interested. Fix your own problems, buy your own donuts, get your own table to sit at. Because me? I'm done with you."

He shoulder-checked her when he strode away and Gail stood, head down, rubbing at that shoulder until the end of lunch bell rang and she had to go collect her books for class.

Chloe didn't sit with her in the two classes they shared that afternoon. She did send her apologetic glances – Gail could feel them trying to sink into her back, could feel Chloe staring at her from three rows back – but she kept her head down and took meticulous notes, diving into her work. The girl slipped a note into her pocket with an incredible lack of subtlety and Gail contemplated simply throwing it away but her fingers were unravelling the paper before she could and her eyes skimmed the pink, glittery ink quickly.

_IM SORRY_, it read. _THNK U 4 HELPING HIM_.

Gail grimaced at the text speak but tucked the note back in her pocket anyway. She tried to figure out the message behind Chloe's note – I'm sorry, it said. Sorry for what? Being an idiot? Gail knew what it meant. It meant I'm sorry for following Dov around, for taking Chris's side, but he was her boyfriends best friend and Gail was the odd one out, the black sheep, and she loved her boyfriend very much and didn't dare lose him because without Dov she was odd as well not accepted and she didn't dare lose that. Being on the outside looking in wasn't a pleasant feeling.

She found herself placing the note safely in her wallet – so she could throw it out later, of course, when she found a bin that was going to an incinerator, perhaps, and not so she could put it into her bedside table when she got home as a reminder that yes, Chloe might be on her side after all.

But there wasn't time to think about that. She had to pack her bag and make note of the assignments to do and then she had to change for track.

Swarek was impressed. She was still bruised but her time had improved by another minute and a half, give or take a few seconds. She didn't mention that it hadn't really been fun training like that, especially thanks to the dog that had added that little extra oomph to her sprint, but he didn't ask either.

Gail walked alone to and from the bus stop and clutched tightly to her bag, tired and sweaty and nervous in the dark.

There was a blinking message waiting for her when she arrived home that evening. She paused by the home phone. Slumped into a chair. Pressed play.

"Gail," the tinny voice said, "Officers were sent around to the boy's house. Apparently it hadn't been cleaned at all because they found bloodstains and a weapon consistent with a beating. A man was arrested for possession as well as assault on a minor and a woman was arrested. I believe that she is Chris Diaz's mother. She hasn't been charged yet but CPS is going to speak with her. I won't be home this evening."

Gail played the message again, pinning the information in her brain. _Possession. Assault on a minor. Mother. Arrested. CPS. _She felt ill. Chris would hate her forever.

* * *

Chris did hate her. He made that abundantly clear with glares and crossed arms. If she had even bothered to try and sit with them at the lunch table, she would have found two bags dumped in the seat she used to occupy. Chloe's would be absent and she would look torn, glancing between her boyfriend and friend and Gail but she too would eventually shake her head, sending her apologetic glances.

Gail hid.

The only thing she was looking forward to was spending time with Holly, only that morning she had finally looked at what that blinking notification was in her message inbox and read, with a sinking heart, Holly's reply to her ill-thought-out message.

_My aunt's not great actually so I'm staying with her for a few days. Won't be able to make it to Tuesday session. Sorry! How are you?_

She hadn't replied yet. Should she? She probably should but she hadn't. And because she hadn't replied, did that mean that she couldn't? She stared at the message until it blurred in front of her eyes, planned out several responses but sent exactly zero of them. Finally, reaching a decision, she shoved her phone deep into her pocket and tried valiantly not to think of anything or anyone. Instead, she repeated the information she had learnt in class until she was sure it would stick. That night, instead of going to Holly's, she wore herself out on a run and finished two assignments due in the weeks to come, and read some more of the sign language book, and read ahead for Biology because that was what she would be doing if she were at Holly's, and she stared at her phone for a potentially creepy length of time before locking it and – having learnt from her mistake – placing it on her bedside table.

* * *

Wednesday was crappy. Early morning runs with Swarek – sprints. Sprints and more sprints. And then, in case her legs weren't feeling like jelly filled sacks, more sprints. Suicides. Push-ups. More sprints.

No one spoke to her that day. Not even her teachers.

She thought for a time about taking herself over to the station but she had no excuse and no reason to so she didn't. Traci wouldn't appreciate her showing up at her house either, even if it was so that she could hang out with Leo. It would be strange.

So she stared at Holly's name and finally tapped out a message.

_I don't like sprints._

She placed the phone on her bedside table and, when it buzzed and lit up the ceiling with a faint glow, she pretended like she didn't leap for it in desperation.

_Poor kitten._ Gail could almost hear Holly's teasing tone and the knot of tension in her chest eased a little. _How are you?_ Holly sent.

Gail paused, locking down. She knew that she was about to text an essay in response – everything that had happened. Chris. Chloe. Dov. Swarek. Her mother. What she had done, calling her mother and trying to help Chris. She couldn't do that. It was late, for one reason, and for another Holly was worrying about her aunt. She shouldn't have to worry about Gail too. Not that she would, Gail reminded her brain, but if Holly _were_ a worried – and she thought that the nerd probably was – then she wouldn't want to add additional worry to that plateful.

_Contemplating amputation of legs. Feasible?_

She received a short tirade about amputation and also advances in the field of bio-mechanical advances and fell asleep smiling.

* * *

School on Thursday was a disaster. She tried not to think about it.

When she arrived home, late that night having stayed back to run and run despite all heated threats that she would kill Swarek if he ever made her move again the day before, her mother was home.

"Gail?" Elaine stood in the doorway of her room, tapping lightly on the frame. "Good evening."

"Mother. Hi." Gail closed her books and swivelled in her chair. "Is…is everything okay?"

"Yes. I was wondering," and there Elaine paused, a strange look crossing her face because it had been a fleeting thought that had pulled her up towards her daughters room. Not a bad thought, but one that it had never occurred to her to entertain before. "I was wondering if you would like to bring your books to my study. We could read together, perhaps."

Gail blinked before nodding. "Sure. Okay." She collected a pile of textbooks and, because she was very nearly done with most of her work, dropped the sign language book on top. They settled in Elaine's study and Gail bit her lip. "Would you like a tea?" she offered.

Elaine nodded. "Please." They wandered down to the kitchen and, as she set out two mugs – one coffee, one tea – and prepared the drinks, her mother caught her up on the investigation.

"The man was the one to hurt your friend. Chris, was it?" Gail nodded. "Chris. He's been arrested and because he was also in possession of cocaine, he will be going away for a long time." She nodded again. "The mother is a different story. As the drugs weren't in the home, and she denied knowing anything about the abuse, we haven't charged her." Gail's hand stilled for a moment – _what_ and _I'll kill her myself then _and _shit_ and _what's going to happen to Chris_ thoughts jumping and diving and each pushing themselves to the front of her mind, clamouring for attention – until she continued preparing her mother's drink. "Like I said, Child Protective Services will be speaking with her. Aren't you having a tea, Gail?"

"I don't like tea," Gail told her absent-mindedly, absorbed in her thoughts.

"You don't?" She looked up at her mother, who looked surprised, and shook her head no. As though that were some kind of barrier being shuffled out of the way, finally, Elaine found it slightly easier to speak in front of Gail. Ask questions. Give opinions that held more weight than 'you're a Peck' and 'because I said so'. "I saw the sign language book you had," Elaine offered cautiously. Gail nodded. "There is another volume that was recommended for me when I was learning." She took the tea Gail offered. "Would you like me to find it?"

Gail smiled into her mug. "Yeah. I'd like that."

They returned to the study and Gail tucked her legs up underneath her and poured over her books. Elaine shuffled through pile upon pile of paperwork before she spoke again.

"How is your friend?" she asked quietly.

Gail shrugged. Her hand was wrapped around a now-cool mug and she tilted her head to the side as she thought. "His bruising has gone down a bit."

"And what did he think about your calling me?" Elaine knew. She had to know. She was watching her with careful, clear blue eyes. Of course she knew.

Gail told her anyway. "He's not talking to me. No one is. All my friends were his friends first," she said with a no-big-deal shrug. Her mother nodded. There was nothing she could do. But that knot in Gail's chest? It loosened just a tiny, itty bit more because her mother was sitting and listening to her instead of talking at her and it was slow going but it was progress and it was milk plus a six mile plus helping her with Chris plus she doesn't like tea plus actually noticing her and that was progress. A good kind.

Gail checked her phone. Ten-thirty. "I should go to bed," she said, standing. She collected her mug but Elaine shook her head.

"I'll take care of that." She hooked the cup out of Gail's hand. "Go to bed." When Gail was almost out of the room, she added, "Sleep well," and Gail turned and smiled and her week was slightly less crappy than it had been.

* * *

Friday was the last day of unholy silence before she could meet up with Holly and she lasted the whole day somehow, keeping her head down and trying to ignore Chris's glares.

Finally, _finally_, school let out and she shot from the entrance like a bullet and caught the bus and another bus and was standing outside Holly's house in a daze and she was, checked her watch, twelve minutes early but she knocked on the door and Holly let her in and she was dumping her bag on the ground and turning toward the girl who asked if she wanted anything and there was already a bag of cheesepuffs on the table in front of Gail's usual seat but all Gail really wanted, and she took it, all she wanted was to stop right in front of Holly and ignore her surprised face and take her into a hug and not stop hugging her.

"Oh. Hey," Holly murmured, arms coming up to wrap around Gail's shoulders.

"Hey," Gail whispered.

"Everything okay?" she asked. Gail shrugged and rested her head on Holly's shoulder for a moment longer before she peeled herself away with visceral reluctance, drew back and dropped into her seat and pulled open her packet and chucked the first cheesepuff at her friend – who, astonishingly and totally awesomely, caught it in her mouth and chomped down on it as she sat opposite Gail.

"Wow. Cool. I guess I have to rethink your level of nerd if you can do that," Gail commented, thoughtful.

"Nah, I am. I learnt how to catch food in my mouth while I was watching re-runs of Star Trek." Holly grinned when Gail rolled her eyes. Holly's nerd points went skyrocketing agin. "What's up?"

"Nothing. What's up with you?" Gail smiled a thin, fake smile - she still felt off-kilter and unhappy from the incredibly dreadful week - and Holly nodded, not convinced in the slightest.

"Oh, well, this really adorable girl hugged me a little while ago. It was totally okay with me. I mean, she's super hot," Holly said with a wink, "but I'm a little confused about why she did it." Holly shrugged and grinned, flipped open her book. Looked down at images of a cross-sectioned liver. "Any ideas?"

Gail tried to glare at Holly but she had dealt with glares far too much that week and it slid right off her face. "First things first, maybe she isn't adorable. Maybe she's completely badass. But you're right, she is super hot." Holly grinned. "And maybe she just had a really long, really crappy week because her friends aren't talking to her right now because of some stuff that happened and she needed a hug," she said. Holly froze in place. Gail smiled. "Or maybe she was pickpocketing you? Who knows?"

Holly made a big show of patting her pockets before she smiled at her friend. "I have all my things," she said. "So it must have been option number one, huh?"

Gail shrugged.

"Right. Well, the _completely badass_ girl should know that she can have a hug whenever. Also she should know that she has my number for a reason and I know that she knows what it is because she used it before."

"Maybe she deleted it when you texted her about cauterising wounds from amputations," Gail suggested.

"Creepy?" Holly asked, a wince taking up residence on her lips.

"Little bit."

"Sorry." Gail shrugged in response. "So, does the badass girl want to talk about her crappy week?"

She looked up and saw that Holly, chin resting in hand, was smiling at her gently and sweetly and she felt a rush of affection overtake her, spreading down from the top of her head down into her chest and then lower in a thoroughly discombobulating wave.

_No,_ she signed. _I feel better already. _For some reason, it was just a tiny bit easier not having to say the words out aloud. Harder and requiring more thought to get the signs right, but easier than having them hang in the air between them. She tried out a smile and, when it didn't feel too bad, kept it shyly in place. Holly beamed back at her.

**Whoop there it is – 0.8% editing this time. Hope you liked it, let me know, you guys know the drill by now you beautiful, beautiful creatures. Reminder: tumblr URL is unicyclehippo and you should use it. I'd love to get some prompts or hellos or something. Happy reading, readers :)**


	12. Chapter 12

**How The Light Gets In: Chapter Twelve**

**I don't own Rookie Blue.**

**Please enjoy.**

_We view things not only from different sides, but with different eyes; we have no wish to find them alike.-Pascal._

* * *

"Question twenty-two," Gail read aloud from the magazine. "Do you identify more with a goat or a weasel?"

"What the hell kind of questions are these?" Holly asked, finally looking up from her textbook only to find that Gail was grinning stupidly to herself and the magazine looked to be upside down. "You've been making these questions up, haven't you?" Gail nodded. She bit her lip but it did nothing to stop the laugh bubbling up in her throat. Holly hung her head, groaning. "You are such an_ ass_."

"You," Gail giggled. "You – what did you say?" She cast her mind back, grateful for once for all the memory training she'd done. "You-" another snort before she got the laughter under control. "You are a circle and you are purple and you identify more with a river than a mountain and if you had to pick between a black square with a white stripe and a white square with a black stripe you would pick the black one and-"

"Yes, thank you Gail," Holly bit out, pretending to be not a whit impressed by Gail's powers of recollection. "How did you even come up with those questions?"

"Oh I've been reading tween magazines for years." Gail flung the magazine back toward the rack where she'd found it and in another movement that was somehow just an extension of the first, a grace that had Holly just staring at her because she was utterly captivating and she didn't even know it the stupid ass, she snagged her Gameboy from her pocket and woke up the game. "Keeps me young," Gail continued, making a face when her Pokémon was poisoned. "Up to date with all the celeb gossip."

"Right."

"It's very important to me." She caught her tongue between her teeth, frowning as she button mashed. "All I need in my life is junk food, television, and magazines."

"Uh-huh." Holly frowned at the Gameboy. "Hey," she said. Gail grunted a response. "Hey," she said again. "Are you going to do any work at all?" Gail cheered when she caught the bug and Holly sighed. "Gail."

"Hmm?" There was a guilty lip bite - the 'I wasn't listening' one - that made Holly roll her eyes and repeat the question.

"Are you going to do some work?"

Gail shifted on her beanbag and screwed up her face in thought. Then she shrugged. "Nope."

"Because you're being lazy or because you've finished everything?" Holly prodded, leaning on her veritable throne of textbooks. Gail shrugged again and returned to her game, staring at it intently. Too intently. She was _ignoring_ her, Holly deduced. So Holly kicked her.

"Hey!"

"Me teacher, you student. Answer the question."

"Okay, okay. _Bitch,_" Gail scowled fleetingly, muttering under her breath. She rubbed with exaggerated care at the spot where Holly's foot had made contact. "I finished everything, like, last week." She made fleeting eye contact with Holly, who felt bad. Horrible, really, because the smile Gail gave her wasn't a happy one. It was too sweet and uncomfortable and so, so not real. "The plus side," she said matter-of-factly, "of only having one friend is that I have plenty of spare time."

Holly breathed out. Her mind raced on how to deal with that because in the short time she had known Gail, she had learnt that she didn't _like_ things being pointed out to her. She kind of walked around the important stuff and then flopped backwards onto them when it was absolutely necessary, head first, guard up. It was courageous and kind of stupid.

"Yeah, Lucy doesn't take up much of your time," Holly agreed, turning the page. Humour was usually the way to work with Gail.

"Bitch," Gail said again, grinning that time. She wriggled down into the beanbag. Then, returning her Gameboy to her pocket, she stretched her hands high above her head and arched her back until it popped a little. With a groan, she said, "Oh god, that can't be healthy."

"Probably not." Holly grimaced when Gail then rolled her shoulders and cracked the tension out of her neck. "Ew."

"Shut your face, nerd. You look at dead bodies for fun."

"You are so nice, Gail. _So nice_. I can't believe that you only have Lucy as a friend." She shook her head and Gail rolled her eyes and pretended like she didn't understand what Holly was doing but of course she did because that was…it was…they understood. A little. They understood each other and Holly knew that Gail worked best with sarcasm and humour and Gail knew that Holly cared or at least she hoped that she did and she knew that Holly prodded around the topic until Gail 'volunteered' information. That is, until she got so annoyed by Holly's relentless, and somehow still funny still nice, questioning that she just blurted out information.

What Holly was doing now was simple: she was trying to find out what had gone wrong. The last time they'd spoken, _really_ spoken, the problem had been with Elaine. Not her friends. And now it seemed like the world had gone topsy-turvy and her friends were her not-friends and her mother was on some strange middle ground and inching further towards friendly. So Holly, understandably confused, kept prodding and poking in the least subtle ways possible and hoped that Gail would talk to her about it.

"Did you break it off with Chris or something?" Gail blinked. That sounded an awful lot like…but no. Nothing she had said would give Holly that idea, would it? Gail hadn't even entertained that thought ever. Gross. "Did you dump him or did, you know, the other way round?" Oh but apparently Holly _did_ have that idea.

"I am not dating Chris. Or ever was. Or ever will." Gail grimaced. "No."

"Oh." Holly frowned. "Sorry. You guys just sounded really close and I just assumed."

"Don't do that. I'm not dating Chris."

Holly held her hands up in surrender. "Okay. Whatever you say."

"I'm not."

"I said okay!" Holly shook her head, smiling. "I do believe you, Gail."

"We aren't talking about this anymore." Gail picked up her magazine from the floor and flicked through it mindlessly. She came, finally, to the quiz she had been pretending to read and laughed. "Oh look. How to Plan the Perfect Date with your Perfect Man," she read aloud. "Holly. We're doing this one. We can figure out where I'm taking Chris on our next date. Like, oh I don't know, the sewer or something."

The brunette froze for a moment before shrugging and burying her nose in her book. "Whatever. Just stop making up questions, okay?"

"Don't tell me what to do." She skimmed the questions. "Number one: does he pay for the date?"

"Ah." Holly cleared her throat. "They don't have to pay for me."

"Okay." Gail frowned. "Yes, no, maybe. I think that's a maybe. Next question. Oh god what is this rubbish. What qualities does your perfect man have?"

Holly was glad that Gail wasn't looking at her because she'd never been very good at hiding her expression and at that moment it looked vaguely stricken. She had to think very carefully about how to phrase her answer. Taking some time, she pretended like she was reading her book intently.

"My perfect date…they are funny," she said finally. "If I'm not laughing then I don't know, it's not as much fun." Gail nodded. "And they have to be clever. Not necessarily book clever but clever. You know?" She nodded again. "And well, it doesn't hurt at all if they are," she bit her lip before saying beautiful because wow Holly that would be a dead giveaway "Attractive."

"Duh. Why date him if he isn't hot?" She flicked through the magazine and tossed it away again because those questions were crap and she was kind of interested in Holly's answers – and more than that, why did Holly sound so nervous?

"Right." Holly laughed a little. "Exactly."

Gail's eyes narrowed slightly and she fiddled with her phone, thinking. "What does he do for a living?"

"They do whatever. That doesn't matter to me." She shrugged. "As long as they're happy? I mean, I totally get the whole follow your dreams thing but sometimes that doesn't work out for people and I really admire hard work and dedication even if they don't totally love their job."

Gail nodded. "What else would," and she paused for a moment because suddenly, blindingly, she had an idea of why Holly might have been so nervous, "_they_ have to do to make it a good date?"

"Not much. I'm a pretty easy person to – shut your face, Gail!" Holly scowled when Gail laughed. "I'm not _easy_," she grumbled. "I'm easy to please." But that didn't make Gail's laugh fade at all and her complaints gave way into laughter as well and then she swatted her friend's shoulder and tried again. "As long as I like them, whatever we do would be fun."

"Does it have to be a guy?" Gail asked. She smirked when Holly looked up, eyes wide, and Holly knew abruptly that all her attempts to be casual and sneaky with gender neutral pronouns had been utterly not casual or sneaky.

"You caught that, huh?" she asked. She started fiddling with the corner of her page, folding it and smoothing it out again. "Sorry. It's, uh, I didn't want to just," she shrugged. Looked away. "Throw that at you. I know it can be an issue sometimes."

"Not with me." Gail frowned when Holly looked up, relieved. Gail was annoyed. Holly shouldn't have to be _relieved._ She should be safe in knowing that people weren't going to be assholes about the fact that, oh boy, she wants to kiss a girl. Whatever. Gail wanted to get rid of that expression – she shouldn't be thrilled that I was being a decent human being. Save the adoration for when she actually did something nice. "Me? I believe in equal rights all the way. I hate everyone equally." The laugh that startled from Holly brought a quick smile to Gail's lips – that was better, a laughing Holly she could handle – and then she shrugged. "So tell me about this perfect girl then. Or person?"

"Girl," Holly confirmed, cheeks still a little red. "I don't know. I think it's just a person I fall for. Not, you know, not a type."

Gail wanted to make some kind of comment. Yawn, perhaps, or shrug it away because for some reason there was a crawling interest that made itself known in her stomach and spine and it made her feel like two people: that person that she was familiar with who brushed things away and made stupid comments and who was such a major part of her that it was normal to give in to that urge; and that person who suddenly wanted to ask more questions and know more for some not entirely undecipherable reason that she elected not to think about just yet. So, as she always did, Gail shrugged and closed her eyes and grabbed a pillow from the beanbag next to her.

"Whatever," she said. "Cool."

"What about you?" Holly asked hesitantly. "I mean, you're not dating Chris and I have seen photos of him. Why not?"

"If you're asking me if it's because I'm strictly not dickly, that's not it." She hadn't really thought about it but… She shook her head. Not a thought for then and there. Later. "I'm not dating him because I didn't want to." And that was all Gail was willing to say on the topic and Holly seemed to sense that, or perhaps she just lacked the courage at the time to ask, because she backed off and let Gail snooze while she studied and when it was time for the store to close again, she kicked Gail lightly on the ankle and ran away when Gail rose up angry, storm-cloud frown rumbling over her face, and moved to retaliate.

"Come on," she said, nudging Gail. "I'll drive you home."

Gail took the pile of books from Holly's arms and dropped them into her backseat without a word, taking her customary passenger seat with feet up on the dash. Holly knocked them down, glaring, and Gail rolled her eyes but kept them down.

* * *

"Hey," Holly said as they approached Gail's house. "I think there's someone on your steps."

Gail looked up from the radio and froze. "Keep driving. Don't look. Just keep driving." Holly did, casually driving past the house. Gail snuck a peek from the corner of her eye and sighed.

"Should I be worried? Like, is it the mafia or something?"

"Triad," Gail grunted. When Holly's hands tightened on the steering wheel, Gail erupted with a laugh and a, "What the fuck, Holly? The Triad doesn't send someone around to a house to sit on the steps and wait." Holly tried to frown, tried not to smile, but Gail was laughing so it was difficult. After a moment, with Holly turning the corner and pulling to a stop out of sight of Gail's house, Gail spoke. "That's Chris."

"Oh."

"Yeah." She fiddled with the strap of her bag.

"Do you want to go talk to him?" Gail shrugged and then shook her head no. "So don't. Come to my place. We can avoid him for as long as you want."

"You don't even know why I'm avoiding him."

"I don't care _why_. Sometimes you just need to avoid people." Holly turned her body so that her full attention was on Gail and her hand drifted over the centre console of the car to latch onto the arm of her sweater because for some reason she just gravitated towards the other girl and when she was still she wanted to touch her and Gail, Gail who didn't like to be touched, allowed it because she felt it too.

"I should talk to him," she said quietly. "I kind of…" She shook her head. "Promise not to talk about it to anyone?"

Holly nodded immediately. "Of course. I mean, I won't. Talk about it. I promise I won't talk about it."

Gail's small smile hitched. "He was living with his mom and, I don't even know. Her boyfriend? And he kept, he kept coming to school with these _bruises_." She held out her hands in front of her, arms stretched out, and in her mind she saw the matching bruises appearing there layered in bands of blues and greens. Her hands started shaking. "I, my mother. She's pretty high up in the whole police thing." Holly nodded. She just watched Gail. Any sign of major distress and Holly would stop her – you don't have to continue, I understand, stop, everything is fine. "I called her," Gail confessed very quietly. "And he hates me because his mother was arrested and maybe she was charged with endangerment. I don't know. But he blames me and," her eyes were wide and the lightest blue Holly had seen, bleached almost to white in the sun that set Gail's hair to ethereal and shimmering. A halo, Holly laughed to herself. How appropriate.

"Gail," she said firmly. "It's not your fault."

"But,"

"No. Nope." She cut Gail off with stern rejections of that idea. "No matter what crap you told me about Chris today, I know that you love him. As a friend," she clarified when Gail pulled a face. "And I know that you were doing what you thought was the right thing for him."

"Yeah. What I _thought_ was the right thing. What if it wasn't?"

"I don't know. But if you thought he was in danger, then I think you probably did do the right thing by telling someone." Her hand slipped into Gail's – and hell if that didn't send an electric shock through both of them that they avoided thinking about until later – and she rubbed her thumb very slightly over the skin there. "You're a good person, Gail, and you were looking after your friend."

Gail nodded very slightly.

"Do you want me to go with you?"

"No," she said. And more confidently, "no. No, I can deal with him. Thank you though," she added shyly before very gently sliding her hand out of Holly's and stepping out of the car. "See you tomorrow?"

"Yeah. Text me!" she called after Gail, who saluted. Holly leant her chin on the steering wheel and watched as Gail sauntered her way back down the road to her home. Then she rested her forehead there and laughed at herself for some time before throwing the car in drive and making her way home.

When Holly drove by, eyes intent on the figures sitting on the front steps, Gail looked up and watched her go until the car was just a little speck disappearing around the corner. Neither she nor Chris were talking. She had stood there for a little while, staring at him while he stared at her, and then she dropped her bag on the porch and sat on the same step as him but with space between them. They were quiet for a long time until he disrupted the silence.

"Was that your friend?" he asked. "Holly?"

"Don't talk about her."

"Oh." He gulped. "Okay."

The silence started again. Gail was burning with curiosity – why was he here? Had something happened? Was this the moment he decided the whole thing was coming to an end and they were going to duel or something? But she kept her mouth stubbornly closed and she locked her arms around her knees and watched the trees shuddering in the breeze and the sky slowly change colour.

"She's cute," he said. "Holly."

"Don't. Don't talk about Holly." How was that a difficult concept to grasp, she wondered. She had said plainly not to talk about her. "She's _my_ friend_," _Gail said and that told him everything he needed to know. Don't taint her. Don't take her from me like you took the others. And it was protective and secret and careful because there was so much more to Holly than he realised and he couldn't have her.

"Sorry," he mumbled. Eyes downcast, he threaded his fingers loosely together. "I'm a dickhead."

"Yeah."

"I… It took me way too long to say that. That I'm sorry." Gail shifted in place, digging in her pocket, because her pocket vibrated and when she pulled it out she smiled because it was a message. "Is that from Hol-" he cut himself off when she sent him a terrible glare.

_Everything okay?_ it read.

_Peachy. Mostly silence. Talking now?_ Gail stared at the message she had constructed and then deleted it, backspacing until only the hugely sarcastic _Peachy_ remained, which she sent. Then _Mostly silence. Talking now. Sort of_. was the next message and she sent it off before she could rethink it a second time.

_Okay. _The reply was nigh on instant and it made her feel good to know that Holly was gripping onto her phone in much the same way that she was. A whole day together and it still didn't seem like enough. _Text me if you need to_.

"What's she saying?" Chris asked.

"That you're a nosy ass," Gail immediately grumbled back. "Why?"

"Sorry."

"Whatever."

"No. I mean, I mean that I'm sorry. You're right. I've been a huge, unforgivably dickish ass and you didn't deserve that."

Gail returned her phone to her pocket and turned to him. "Go on."

"I was mean to you. A major asshole. And I'm sorry for walking into you. I'm sorry for getting angry at you in the first place. It was, there's, I don't know."

"Can I?" Gail suggested. He looked at her, surprise, but nodded.

"Yeah. Sure. Go ahead."

"Your mom is the most important person in your life for whatever reason and she has a crappy boyfriend who liked to hit you with stuff like a fucking metal pipe." She growled a little there because her mother had shown her pictures and who the fuck hit children - even big children like Chris - with pipes? Who hit _anyone_ with pipes? "You have to be the macho man and not admit to weakness or ask for help because of other reasons. So because I did it for you, you felt humiliated and defensive and whatever else and so you took it out on me."

Chris blinked. "Yeah. Uh…actually that, yeah. Sounds a lot like what happened." He sighed. "I felt stupid. Like, _all_ the time. He was smaller than me," Chris blurted out. "By a foot. And I just let him hit me! Who does that?" Gail wanted to respond but he was talking then and nothing was going to stop him. "And my mom, I love my mom, but she just stood by and let it happen. She did nothing. And I just want to look after her because I know that she isn't well. She can't look after herself, right?" He didn't wait for an answer. "And so I stayed even when it got bad and I let _that_ happen." Chris rubbed his arm where, Gail presumed, he was still bruised. Or at least felt that phantom pain that shadowed each movement. "And, shit Gail. I'm so sorry. You were awesome. Really." He looked up and, tentatively, over to her. "You got it done and I'm really…I'm really grateful. Honest to god, I am. My mom is getting help and he's locked up, hopefully for good, and I'm so sorry."

"Fine."

Chris frowned. "What?"

"I said _fine_, Diaz. Clean your ears or something."

"It's not fine, Gail. I was a total asshole."

"Yeah, well, some of the shit you said wasn't wrong." Gail shrugged. Most of it had been pretty on point, actually, in her opinion. "So whatever. Free pass. Your one and only."

"Right." He swallowed and cracked his knuckles nervously. "So, we're friends again?" He looked so supremely uncomfortable like he had expected some kind of Gauntlet.

"I don't know. You'll have to call Dov off because he is, like, _fiercely_ on your side. He looks like he wants to kill me every time I walk near him in the halls."

"Yeah. I think he feels like he didn't, I don't know, do enough to help me? So he's jealous that you did it instead of him."

"That's so fucking ridiculous I don't even have words for that." Gail groaned. "Whatever." She stood and picked up her things. Chris scrambled to his feet as well and tried out a smile. "Don't do that." The smile faded. "If you ever pull that whole ostracism shit with me again I will take my gun and do something not so nice with it. To you. Understood?"

He nodded quickly.

"Alright. Good. Go away. Now." And Gail waited until he scurried away down the street before she turned in and opened the door to her home and walked slowly, carefully, up the stairs to her room and then with the door closed behind her she erupted because why the hell did this keep happening to her? She was _happy_ that Chris had apologised. She was happy that she was getting her friends back. So why did she feel like there was something wrong with the whole thing? Why did she feel the need to grab something and shake it and say it's not fucking good enough I deserve more than that you can't walk all over me again?

She took several careful breaths and shoved the feeling down. Deep down. No point in thinking about it now – Chris was forgiven. Dov would be forgiven in due time. Chloe…Chloe was already forgiven because Gail understood too much how it felt to think that the one person who loves you is who helps you be the person you are supposed to be. Who would she be without Dov, right? And Gail forgave her because Chloe didn't see that she was Chloe, not Dov's Chloe, and that was okay. Well, it wasn't okay, but Gail wasn't about to be cruel about it. Because she was tamping all of that down, deep down, and refusing to deal with it. Later. Just…later.

_Everything okay_? That message buzzed onto her screen again and Gail wanted to crack it in half. Splinter that fucking message because who knew? Who fucking knew if everything was okay? She was happy but she wasn't; she was relieved but she was angry; she was terrified and hopeful.

_Yes_, she sent back. _Fine_.

_I'll bring donuts tomorrow_, Holly texted and Gail felt all of the bad drop away or possibly lighten just enough that she could breathe properly because there was this improbable person who understood that 'yes, fine' meant 'it could have gone better' or maybe 'I'm not sure' and who also knew that eating donuts with the coolest chick ever might not fix everything but would definitely go a long way in being totally awesome _despite_ everything.

**This is crappy and I'm sorry I just wanted to get something to you because you are all lovely people and you've been waiting for days. Hi. I'm sorry. Happy reading, readers :)**


	13. Chapter 13

**How The Light Gets In: Chapter Thirteen**

**I don't own Rookie Blue**

**Please enjoy.**

_It necessarily implies separateness of division as well: only two distinct or independent entities can clasp each other. A hand cannot clasp itself but must clasp a different hand; a raindrop cannot clasp another raindrop without their melting into each other—Gray. _

* * *

He picked up the moment she called. He always did. Gail liked that about him.

"Sup Wail," he greeted her. "I'm on my break so tell me everything."

"I don't like that nickname," she said as petulantly as she did each and every other time he had used it. She crawled onto her bed. She pulled a pillow into her lap and pressed her phone to her ear – the harder she pressed it, her mind seemed to be saying, the closer he will be.

"I know. That's why I use it." He laughed, then laughed harder still when she forced out a sarcastic huff. "So go on," he prompted. "I know you must have heaps to tell me."

"Eh." She shrugged, even though he couldn't see her.

"Gail, come on. Tell me everything."

A creak told her that he was sitting down and then she was glad that he couldn't see her because a sappy smile spread her lips wide knowing that her big brother was giving her all of his attention. God, she missed him.

"It's only been a couple of weeks," she grumbled. It wasn't as though she could actually tell him that she missed him. That would bring on teasing for years and years. "God, what? Do you miss me or something?"

"Uh _yeah_. Duh! It's been seven weeks without my little sister and I'm bored without getting to dump a bucket of water on you in the mornings." He sounded happy. Reminiscing of the good old days – of bullying her. She scowled. "The least you can do is tell me everything that happens to you so I don't feel left out."

"I don't want to talk to you anymore."

"Aw, don't be like that." He paused and, when she didn't hang up, tried for a third time. This time gently because Gail never called him without a reason and her delaying tactics just told him that whatever she had called about was important. "So," he dragged the word out teasingly. "What's new?"

Gail twirled a strand of hair around her index finger and sighed. She rested her chin on her knees, which were tucked up to her chest. "I think I made some friends. Then I lost them. Then I got them back again. And Mom has been nice lately, which is good I think." She paused. "And, I…"

When she stumbled over her words and had to swallow, Steve frowned into the phone. This, whatever she was having difficulty saying, was what she had really called about – though he _definitely_ wanted to know about these apparently fair weather friends. And he was confused and curious about Elaine. Their mom wasn't really nice. Ever. But this topic that had Gail so obviously nervous was what he was most interested in.

"What is it, Gail?" he asked.

"I, there's this girl." And he blinked because that was never a sentence that he had expected Gail to be saying to him. "Her name is Holly," she said and then Steve pushed the confusion far away because that was a tone he recognised and who really cared if Gail was telling him about a girl? In fact, that might be _exactly_ the reason she was calling and then he had no space to be confused about Gail's confused feelings because he was the supportive big brother and he had to understand everything to help her out. That was his job.

"And?" he asked.

"I don't know." He could just imagine the dismissive shrug Gail was shrugging his way. "She's fine. What about detective rotation – are you going for it?"

"Of course. You know Mom would kick a fit if I didn't. Tell me more about Holly."

"She's my tutor. Who else is up for it?"

"Jackson and Peters. What's she like?"

"She's cool, I guess." A pause. "The coolest. Who is the biggest competition?"

"Probably Peters. She's three years older and she could kick my ass up and down the station if she wanted to. But I don't know if she's really detective material. Where did you meet Holly?"

"At a bookstore. She helped me find some books. Then Mom hired her to be my tutor. What about Jackson?"

"Jackson is," Steve looked around but no one was close enough to hear him. He lowered his voice anyway. "He's an idiot. But he's competition regardless."

"Treat him like it," the Peck siblings said together, quoting their mother. They smiled identical smiles into their phones and Gail uncurled herself and slid under her blanket, relaxing into the feeling of talking with her brother again. She really had missed him.

"What does she teach?" Steve asked.

"Biology."

"O-ho," he laughed. "Anatomy?"

"Shut up," she groaned. "That was a really bad joke."

"Well, I wasn't really kidding."

"Steve?" Gail said after a moment of silence.

"Yeah, Wail?"

"I think I like her." And with that small confession, a dozen others came falling out of her mouth. "She's so smart and she's really pretty. She has this crazy smile that's just _so big_ and I thought I should probably hate her because she's so happy all the time and that's weird, right? But it isn't because it's Holly and she's a nice person. And I like that. I've never liked that before." Steve hummed his agreement and Gail continued. "And I'm learning sign language because Lucy – she's Holly's sister – she's eight and she's deaf and I think she's probably going to be an artist when she grows up and once I fell asleep at their house and they made me mac and cheese and Holly is actually a really good tutor even though I kind of don't pay much attention."

"Are you staring at her face a lot?" he asked.

"Yeah. Kind of."

"Eyes? Or mouth?"

There was a long pause and then Gail sighed. "Mouth. Eyes." She paused. "Both."

"Oh boy. Gail." He sucked in a breath and, when he spoke again, his tone was unrepentantly teasing. "I think you might have a bit of a crush." She groaned and buried her face in her pillow. "Now, Gaily Waily, this happens to a lot of people. They meet someone who has a nice face and who is by all accounts a major nerd and-"

"She is _such_ a nerd," Gail agreed.

"-and they become what we in the business of adulthood like to call 'smitten'." Steve grinned when Gail groaned again and muffled words reached his ears. "What was that?"

"This isn't helping," she said, this time so he could hear.

"Yeah well there isn't much I can do to help from here." A thought occurred to him. "Oh, Gail, that's brilliant."

"What?"

"Nothing. Hey, I have to go," he said, spying his boss looking for him. "But I love you and I'll talk to you later, okay?"

"Fine."

"Oh, and I might be on a stakeout tomorrow so if I can't call or text happy birthday in advance."

Gail smiled. "Thanks, Steve. Love you too." A 'click' ended the phone call and she dropped her hands into her lap, sighing. She wished they could talk for longer. Steve was a dickhead but he was her brother and she missed him. A little bit. Okay, a lot. Sometimes.

She dumped her phone on her bedside table and pulled her blankets up to her chin. _Go to sleep_, her brain told her. _Tomorrow will get here sooner_. And because for the first time in a long time she was actually excited about her birthday – she had friends, real friends, to celebrate with and her mother was being nice so perhaps she had something to look forward to – she closed her eyes and willed herself to sleep.

* * *

Nothing had happened. No one had texted her. Her mother hadn't said anything. Gail had thought that perhaps Chris or Dov would text her, more likely Chloe would have, but none of them did. If they had, she would have told them it was her birthday. But they didn't and she knew why she didn't volunteer the information.

They were being remarkably nice, grovelling really, ever since she had made up painlessly with Chris. And at first Gail thought it was cool: they bought her many food items and weren't quite so annoying. But then it dawned on her that they were trying to buy her affections back and it hurt a little because she'd never really hated them and they didn't have to placate her. They just had to not be assholes again, maybe say sorry once or twice.

She didn't text them 'hey it's my birthday' or anything like that because, to be perfectly honest, she didn't think they would care. She just hauled herself out of bed and, seeing that the house was empty, went through her normal weekend routine. Run, range, then station. Work shift. Finish shift. Gym. Bookstore. Laze around with Holly for a while.

Holly asked her how her day was first thing and Gail hesitated. Holly was the only person that Gail had even thought about telling – that is was her birthday –but now that she was confronted with the nice smile and happy demeanour, she didn't want to. Probably because the people who were supposed to care had only left a what was now colour-coded schedule on her desk and nothing, not even a note. And at work she had slipped into the Intern Peck role that was expected of her and now she felt herself shifting again, wavering somewhere between Gail-friend and Gail-bitch and she didn't want to be a bitch to Holly so she decided that she should just shut down entirely and that would surely deal with all of her issues.

She shrugged and grunted her way through Holly's questions and then slammed face-down into her beanbag. She didn't move again until Holly nudged her foot with a quiet, "Hey" after about twenty minutes. Even then all Gail did was jerk in place, pulling her foot away, and grumble. "Hey," Holly tried again. Then Gail rearranged – aka pummelled – the fabric beside her face until she could see Holly without having to move her head.

"What?"

"Ooh. Someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed this morning. Didn't get a healthy breakfast?" Holly teased. Gail just narrowed her eyes. "I should just get to the point, shouldn't I?" Gail nodded a yes. "Okay. Lucy wants to see you. Do you want to come to mine after I finish my shift?"

"'kay." Gail burrowed her face into the beanbag again.

"Wow. So enthusiastic," she said. She laughed when Gail flipped her the bird and then she let her sleep the rest of the afternoon away, even though she knew that something wasn't quite right.

When Gail followed Holly into her house a few hours later, Lucy was waiting for them. Gail had only just dumped her things on the table when the girl threw herself at Gail – who had to freeze in place because she was suddenly and irrationally afraid that she could break this little girl, touch her wrong and she would fall apart – and hugged her legs.

_Hi_, Lucy signed. _Come with me_. And then she had both hands on one of Gail's wrists and she was tugging her outside into the backyard where an enormous dog was lying on its back. When it saw Lucy, it flipped over and sprinted towards them. Gail yelped but Lucy laughed when the dog tackled her to the ground. Then Gail saw the too-large paws and the sweet grin the dog boasted and realised that, despite the behemoth size, this was just a puppy. And a very sweet puppy at that, she decided when it sniffed at her hand and then tried to lick her all over.

_He lives next door_, Lucy told her. _His name is_ – but Gail didn't understand that sign and so Lucy jumped up from the grass and tugged her over to the sand pit, where she started drawing a big, muscular man. Gail thought again how certain she was that this kid was going to be an artist when she grew up before focusing on Lucy's action.

"Hero?" she guessed. Lucy watched her lips closely and her face lit up when Gail said it again. "Hero," she confirmed, attempting the sign. She ruffled the puppy's fur and he thumped the ground with his tail with joy at all the pats he was getting. Lucy was having fun too. She took great joy in teasing Gail. She would point out all the different parts of their yard – the fence, a cloud, grass, tree, bucket, sand – and teach Gail the signs for them, screwing up her face in mocking expressions when Gail got them wrong. She stopped that soon enough when Gail put her in a headlock.

From inside the house, leaning on the doorway in fact, Holly watched them. It had been a good idea to bring Gail back. Lucy _had_ been asking about Gail – "what are you teaching her?" and "did you see the drawing Gail did for me?" and "how did her hair get that colour?" – so it was only a teeny tiny white lie to tell her that Lucy had been asking to see her again. Holly had no problem exploiting Gail's weakness for children if it meant seeing her smile.

A buzzing caught Holly's attention and she looked over to Gail's phone on the table. It was a quick glance, one she didn't even think through, but it was enough.

_Happy Birthday, kiddo!_ _I hope- _was the preview Holly could see on the screen. She looked down at it until the screen went black again. Then she pressed the home button to look at it again. Yep. It definitely said happy birthday.

Why hadn't Gail said anything? was her first thought. Holly was hurt. Offended. She thought they were friends – they told each other things, right? Well, that was the impression she had. Was she wrong about it?

And then, because Holly hardly even made decisions based on her first impulse, she thought a little harder. Why _hadn't_ Gail said anything? Holly began to frown as an idea came to mind: that maybe Gail's birthday hadn't been good so far. That maybe the reason Gail hadn't mentioned it at all was because it had been absolutely crappy and maybe she just wanted to spend a few relaxing hours with a friend without the reminder that it had been a crappy birthday.

Then another thought: she wanted to celebrate Gail's birthday. If it had been a crappy day, she wanted to make it better. Desperately. Truly, completely, she wanted to make Gail smile and know that her birthday should be incredible and awesome and amazing because that was what she deserved. Holly didn't dwell very long on those thoughts because they were a little frightening in the way they rose quick and thick and heavy to pump away strong in her chest. It was kind of overwhelming. Too overwhelming. She moved on. What if Gail didn't want to celebrate?

The only option was to ask.

Gail and Lucy were coming inside anyway. Hero had been called home and they patted him each one last time – okay, Gail snuck in an extra pat because he was so fluffy and sweet – and then Gail obliged to the piggyback ride that Lucy requested and picked up the girl, swinging her onto her back.

"What the hell do they feed you?" she grumbled, knowing that Lucy couldn't hear her or read her lips. "Jesus. You've got like rocks or something in your stomach, I swear." But she smiled as she carried the girl into the house and then she jokingly collapsed onto the couch, hiding her grin in a cushion when Lucy jabbed at her to get up.

"Hey Gail?" Holly called from the next room.

"Yeah?"

"Can I talk to you for a sec?"

Gail jumped up then and made a face to Lucy, who giggled. _Going to talk to your sister. Get some drawing stuff?_ she suggested and Lucy ran off to oblige that request. Gail stomped into the kitchen. "Yeah? Lucy and I are gonna draw."

"Cool." Gail narrowed her eyes. Holly looked nervous. Why did Holly look nervous? "You've got a text," she said, eyes darting over to the device. Gail wandered over and flicked the screen open. She read the message and then looked up at Holly.

"You saw it?"

"A little. The preview."

"Huh."

"Is it really your birthday today?" Holly asked. Gail nodded a yes. "Why didn't you tell me?" Gail just shrugged but already she was closing down, her chin lowering almost to her chest and her phone held tight in her hand. Holly jumped to close the space between them. She reached out to touch, to hold, Gail's wrist. She gave it a little reassuring squeeze. "Hey. It's okay. I just thought,"

"Don't," Gail suggested, cutting her off. "Don't think about it. It's nothing. Just forget about it." She made to pull away but Holly held firm. She bent a little until she could meet Gail's eyes. A touch, fleeting and delicate, urged Gail to raise her face, her eyes, to focus, to pay attention. Just for a moment. Listen.

"Why?" she asked sweetly. "It's your _birthday, _Gail. That's awesome. Special." She stepped away, getting excited about convincing Gail about what she wanted to do. "You should celebrate. And I'm not saying that you haven't celebrated but you didn't tell me about it being your birthday and I just, I hope that it isn't because of any bad reasons. And if there isn't a reason then I thought, maybe, if it's okay with you, we could invite your friends over and have a party. Cook some food, watch TV, play with the neighbours dog?" Gail blinked. That sounded…really nice actually. And though it had been a little difficult to follow Holly's rambling, the gist of it made her feel ooey and gooey and warm inside. Gross. She nodded slowly. Holly smiled. "Yeah?"

"I, yeah." Gail swallowed thickly. She was a little confused as to how Holly had convinced her so quickly but she thought it might have had something to do with the small head tilt that had accompanied the suggestion. "Okay."

"Oh great." Holly looked relieved. "Because I already asked mom to pick up some food and a cake on her way back from work."

At that, Gail pulled her hand free and sent Holly a filthy look. The girl had somehow known that Gail would agree? Impossible. Gail was a closed book. A closed off, mystery novel. Written in code. Right? Right! She couldn't possibly have known that Gail would agree.

"What are your friends numbers?" Holly asked, unlocking her phone. "Actually, you know what? Just give me your phone and I'll call some people." Gail obligingly handed it over. Then she paused. How had Holly done _that_? She never let people touch her things. Holly shooed her away and she trailed into the living room, bewildered, shocked by her easy capitulation to Holly's demands.

Lucy just handed her a crayon and didn't ask any questions.

* * *

"Hey, Gail!" Chloe skipped through the house. The blonde's hand jerked, sending a line of green through the sky she had drawn.

"What the f- ah, dammit Chloe!" she corrected herself, noting that Lucy had looked up and could read her lips. She didn't want to swear in front of the girl. "What are you doing here?"

Chloe turned in place, showing off the enormous bag she was carrying. "I'm helping Holly with the decorations! She is super nice by the way, Gail, did you know that?" Gail rolled her eyes so hard she felt that perhaps this was the time they would roll right out of her head – of course she knew that Holly was nice. She was the one who found Holly.

As though summoned by their discussing her, Holly wandered into room. "Oh hi," she said. "Chloe, right?"

"That's me!" Chloe bounced on the balls of her feet and squealed. "I am so excited! Where did you want me?"

Holly blinked in the face of such enthusiasm before pointing behind her. "In there?" Chloe squealed again, hugged Holly hard, and danced into the next room. The moment she disappeared through the doorway, Gail scrambled to her feet and snagged Holly's sleeve.

"I know you mean well," she started ominously, "but if I see anything glittery or pink or lacy or frilly or fluffy when I get in there, I will kill someone. It won't be you or your family," she conceded with a thoughtful nod that made Holly smother a grin, "but I don't want Lucy to be traumatised."

"Right." Holly nodded. "Got it. Nothing glittery, pink, lacy, frilly, or…what was the last one?"

Gail narrowed her eyes. "If I can't trust you with this, how can I trust you with anything?"

Holly laughed aloud and brushed her free hand down Gail's cheek in a quick, affectionate gesture that neither of them seemed to notice – or rather, that both noticed and neither commented on – before tapping Gail's hand that gripped at her sleeve. Gail obediently let go. "No fluffy stuff either. I promise."

"Good."

"I'm going to go help Chloe find everything. Try not to corrupt my sister."

Gail saluted and too her place again, dropping down next to Lucy.

_Gail and Holly_, Lucy signed, _sitting in a tree_. She got no further, quelled by a sharp look, but she did smile cheekily before shuffling close and sharing her colouring book with Gail.

_You're a butt_, Gail signed carefully. She loved that Lucy's birthday present for her had been to teach her insults. She felt like it had really brought them closer.

_No _you_ are a butt_, Lucy signed back, scowling.

_You're a butt_, Gail reiterated, setting her jaw. No way would she be beaten by an eight year old.

_You are!_

_You are!_

_No! You are!_

"Girls," Anne said, watching them with amusement. "How about you two take this outside and greet our guests when they arrive?" she said and signed at the same time. The two girls grumbled but obediently stood and raced each other to the front door. On the steps outside, they plopped themselves down and as soon as she was comfortable, Gail's hands flashed again.

_You're a butt._

_You're a poop then!_

That's how Chris and Dov found them, locked in a fierce staring match and their hands occasionally fluttering in mild, childish insults. The boys hesitated. Chris cleared his throat after a moment.

"Hey," he said.

Gail held up a finger – her index finger, the boys saw with a thankful sigh – to indicate that she would talk to them in just one second.

_You're a dog poop, no returns_, she signed quickly and then leapt to her feet and, laughing, hid from Lucy behind Chris. Lucy jumped up too and stomped her foot, crossing her arms. She scowled. Gail poked her tongue out at her and Lucy ran inside.

"What did you do to her?" Dov asked suspiciously, thinking perhaps that Gail had been cruel.

Gail ignored that. She was used to people thinking the worst of her; she knew that Lucy had probably just gone to recruit Anne or Holly to her side. "What did you bring me?" she demanded, blocking the door. Chris held out a clumsily wrapped gift and she stepped aside. "Go ahead. Dov?" He showed her a much smaller present and she waved him in. "Go on. _Go,_" she repeated harshly and he jumped, trotting in down the hall.

"Stop!" Holly held out a hand and Gail skidded to a halt. She frowned. "Sorry. I just don't know if everything is set up yet."

Dov poked his head out of the room. "Whoa, you got Gail to do something. Nice job!" He held his hand out for a high-five. Holly looked at it but didn't hit it and Dov retracted his hand sheepishly after a moment. "Ah…Chloe said to tell you that everything is ready?"

Holly narrowed her eyes at him; Gail had never adored her more. She knew exactly how he had treated Gail – like a pariah, like she had done something wrong, and she was one hundred per cent on Gail's side is what she was trying to say with her body language. She relented after a moment and gave him a nod and a smile because she was a good host and also because Gail had forgiven him. Then Holly reached out and pulled Gail through into the best birthday party she had ever had.

She couldn't quite believe it. Of course, there were no hoity-toity white shirts walking around. There was no champagne or talking about how long it would take this Peck – accompanied by either a heart clap on the shoulder or a sneaky butt squeeze – to make detective. Staff sergeant. Superintendent, maybe. There were none of the obligatory little white envelopes with twenty, thirty, fifty dollars tucked into them, dropped into piles of the same.

What there _was_…a piñata. Gail had never had a piñata. There were paper plates and three pizzas and an ice cream cake and a bowl of candy and a bowl of cheese puffs, which Gail picked up and carried around with her. There was Chloe and Chris and Dov, who were setting the xbox up to Anne's television and handing Lucy a stack of games to choose from. Anne was vetoing the violent choices and glaring at the boys – she's _eight_, Christopher! – and Chris sneakily taking away the more inappropriate games for young eyes. There were a few presents at the end of the table. And there was Holly, biting her lip and looking at Gail with worried eyes.

"We didn't have much time," she excused them.

"Whatever." Gail shrugged. Swallowed. "It's good." Holly looked relieved but Gail was angry because she _wanted_ to say that this was the best birthday ever. She shoved her hands into her pockets. "It's perfect," she said very quietly. Then Holly had a smile of sunshine and Gail was so, so glad that she had said it. "Thank you."

"What do you want to do first, birthday girl?"

Gail shrugged. Not apathetic just…overwhelmed. Holly took her hand – her _free_ hand, because the other was holding the bowl of cheese puffs. And Gail wanted to eat the cheese puffs but her other hand was being held so she brought the bowl up to her face and pulled one of the cheese puffs into her mouth with her tongue.

"Okay guys! No one eat the cheese puffs," Chris announced. "Gail's face has been in it!"

* * *

They all flopped onto the couch to watch a movie. Lucy squeezed herself in between Holly and Gail, who hadn't been separated the entire party thus far. They played games and ate food and Gail had three servings of ice cream because she could, because there were no disapproving eyes to look on and tell her that the finger food was for their guests, not for her, and she should have eaten before the party.

At one point, Anne came into the living room pale and murmured to Gail that there was an officer outside looking for her. Holly jumped up with Gail and tugged her to the front door.

"Hey darling," Oliver said. "Got room for two more?" Andy stood on tiptoes behind Oliver to wave at Gail.

"Uh…" She looked to Holly, who smiled.

"Hello, Officer Shaw. I'm Holly."

"Holly!" Oliver cheered. "This girl," he said, "This girl is awesome. Thank you for inviting us." He stepped inside and Andy followed with a large present. Gail felt a blush rising up her neck.

"I can't believe you didn't say anything this morning," Andy chided her. "We totally would have given you the weekend off or something."

"M'yeah," Oliver agreed, talking around some cheese puffs. Holly grimaced but it was too late to tell him that Gail had claimed them so she thought it would be best if he just didn't know. "But you can't come in tomorrow. Have some fun!" he ordered her.

"But,"

"Nope."

"But Oliver,"

"Nope! I already told Best. You have tomorrow off."

Gail scowled and folded her arms over her chest. Holly laughed at her, making her scowl deepen.

"We got you a present?" Andy offered, trying to make it up to the girl. She shook the present and it made an appealing crinkling sound. Gail took it, turned it over a few times in her hand, and squinted at it as though that would tell her everything she needed to know about it. Perhaps it did, because her expression was slightly awed as she trotted over to the table and laid it down gently. She slid a finger under the sticky tape and lifted the wrapping paper off their gift.

Holly whistled. As did everyone else, who had finally paused the movie and come out to join them. "Put it on," Holly urged Gail.

"I don't…I can't…"

"You can and you will, Peck." Oliver nudged Andy and they both grinned enormous grins, proud that they had reduced Gail to a stuttering, awed mess. "We saw it,"

"_I _saw it, Shaw."

"Andy saw it and we thought you might like it."

"I…yeah." Gail still wasn't thinking in full sentences. She stripped off her jumper and then shook out the leather jacket. Arms slid through and the jacket settled on her shoulders.

"Looking good," Chris said with a whistle and a wink.

"Totally hot," Chloe agreed, ignoring the way Dov narrowed his eyes at her.

"Yeah, totally hot," Dov said. He rolled his eyes when Chloe smacked him in the stomach. "In a friendly way."

Gail ran shaking fingers over the leather and then slid her hands into the pockets. She looked over at Andy and Oliver, who were looking entirely too pleased with themselves. Delighted and uncertain how to show it, Gail moved to stand in front of them and dropped her head to stare at her shoes and said a quiet but fervent thank you because really, they absolutely hadn't had to buy her a gift. Oliver pulled her into a hug. Andy joined their hug and ruffled Gail's hair, making her pull away and scowl. They only laughed and it was amazing – intense – a little terrifying – brilliant that Gail had these people who could understand that when she scrunched up her nose it was to hide a smile.

They had to leave after a while – Gail making them take some cake for Traci and Leo, which would probably not survive the drive to the station with the way the two of them eyed it – and then Dov and Chris and Chloe jumped for their gifts.

"My gift was kind of the party," Chloe said. "Sorry. But I got Dov to bring this for me!" She handed Gail the small box he had been carrying earlier and Gail smiled, murmured a thank you even though this whole gift giving thing was making her a little uncomfortable with all their eyes on her. What if she didn't like the present? Did she pretend that she did or could she flat out tell them that it was a god awful gift?

"Oh." Gail turned it over in her hands.

"Is it okay? I can get a refund if you don't like it." Chloe batted wide eyes at Gail.

The blonde shook her head slowly. "No. It's…yeah. This is cool." Chloe had bought her a holster.

"I know that you go to the range but, I didn't, I thought maybe you would like one?" the girl said, unsure of her gift. "I have one too."

Gail smiled. "It's cool, Chloe. Thanks." She hesitated before hugging Chloe with one arm. It sent Chloe into emotional overload and the girl had to sit down for a moment, utterly silent. Gail trailed her fingers over the beautiful holster, made to be worn around her chest for easy access at her side, and decided then and there to get her license to carry. She had to wear this. Often. It was beautiful.

"Our turn!" Dov said then, grabbing the big box that remained. "We pitched in together," he told her before she could tell him that he was a cheapskate for not getting her a gift.

"Do you like them?" Chris asked even before Gail had finished opening the box.

"How would I possibly know if I – oh." She opened the box to see the boots she had been telling them about. Stomping boots, she called them. Really they were steel-capped and fierce and black as black and she quickly jumped up to shuck her shoes, hopping on each foot to pull these on.

Gail squealed and stomped and punched Dov in the shoulder lightly, the same again for Chris, and then pulled Lucy outside to stomp with her. Lucy pulling on her bright yellow wellingtons; Gail in her new stomping boots.

"She's actually kinda childish," Chris noted, still rubbing the spot where Gail had punched him.

"Yeah."

Holly nodded along with the boys. She really, really was.

"Halo?" Dov suggested. Chris nodded.

"Hey Holly, d'you play?" Chris asked her, seeing her hanging back on the sidelines, not sure whether she should clean up or go play with Gail and Lucy or talk to the boys. When she said no, they handed her a controller and selected the first level of campaign. "Can't have that. You can't be friends with Gail and not know how to handle a controller."

"Can't be friends with Gail without knowing how to disable a bomb," Dov joked. He groaned when both Holly and Chris punched his shoulder hard. "Ouch! What the hell?"

"Be nice."

"Yeah Dov. Be nice."

"Fine. No, shoot is right trigger, Holly." Dov adjusted her grip and nodded. "There you go. And, yeah, that's right. A. You can change the gun if you, oh. Okay. Quick learner."

"She shot you in the head, Dov."

"Yeah. I see that."

Later, after the excitement died down and Lucy was drooping in place and everyone was collectively coming to the agreement that it had been awesome but it was time to go, Dov dropped Gail home after the party. He had fought the others for the right to do it, arguing with them in quiet voices, and they had finally relented with many side-eyed glances and nervous fidgeting. It wasn't that they thought Dov would be mean to Gail. It wasn't that they thought Gail would be mean to Dov. It was just that they had, ever since the whole incident with Chris and choosing sides, not meshed as well as they had from the beginning.

But Dov carried all of Gail's new gifts to his car and Chloe went home with Chris and he waited, shook Anne's hand and chatted with her, while Gail said long goodbyes to Lucy . He waited as Gail shyly murmured a thank you to Holly and looping her arm loosely around Holly's neck, hugging her close for just a moment before she grabbed Dov and told him to drive, quick, jittery with nerves from being so close to Holly. Not that she would tell Dov that. He sort of knew, though. They all did.

"The boots are great," Gail said, feeling awkward.

"Yeah? Glad you like them." He flipped the indicator and pulled down the next street. "Gail?"

"Mm?"

"I'm really sorry." His hands clenched on the wheel. "About everything."

"It's fine."

"See, you _say_ that. But it isn't. And you let Chris off because it was him and his mother and he was all bruised but you let me off too even though I was kind of the biggest dick."

"I've seen bigger," she commented with a grin. Dov laughed.

"Nice."

"Thank you."

"Anyway," he said, dragging them back to the conversation at hand. "I just wanted to explain. You, I…"

"Dov, seriously, it's fine. He was your friend first and you took his side. It's, you know. It's whatever."

"He's my brother," he said quietly. "You know, in every way except blood. He's always helping me out and he lives with us now. He practically did before but he really is living with us now that his mom is in rehab. And I love him like a brother."

"Okay."

Dov watched the road carefully. "I didn't want to tell you this because, well, I didn't think I'd ever have to." Gail froze. He sounded serious. "My brother died. Killed himself, actually." She let out a little sigh and closed her eyes. Crap. "That's… I don't know. I couldn't help him but I thought I was helping Chris."

"I'm sorry, Dov," she said.

"Yeah." He coughed. "Anyway, it doesn't excuse my being a dick but I just thought you should know. It wasn't you. I was angry at myself for not seeing how bad it was."

Gail smiled. The conversation was horrible, what had happened to Dov was horrible, but they were friends. Sure it stripped away any of the less permanent bounciness – brought on by sugar and loud dancing and the quick heartbeat of happiness – but it did nothing to detract from how Gail had been feeling the whole afternoon. Like everyone around her was actually there for her. Like everything was good.

"Cool."

Dov grinned. "Cool. Which street is yours?" She pointed him down the next street, and then the last one, and nodded to her house.

"Thanks for the lift, nerd."

"No worries. See you on Monday!"

* * *

It was silly really, after such a great day, to expect more when she arrived home. She wasn't expecting a surprise party or that Elaine had pretended to have forgotten what the day was because the gift hadn't arrived just yet and it was all just for laughs. She had expected _something_ though. Not a party or a cake because that wasn't the kind of family they were. They weren't loud or demonstrative like that. A small present, though, or at the very very least a happy birthday would come her way. Right? Some money, maybe. Buy yourself something nice. I'm proud of you. You're growing into a wonderful young woman.

So Gail, wandered along the corridor once she had dumped her new gifts on her bed, was expectant.

She tapped on the door to her mother's study and opened the door a foot to look through it at the older woman.

"Hello, mother." She got a nod. Elaine didn't even look up from her computer. Her glasses sat on her nose and her nails clicked on the keyboard and Gail walked over.

"Oh, not right now, Gail," Elaine said. "I'm very busy."

Gail bit her tongue. She retraced her steps out of the room and then, thoughtful, paused. "What day is it?"

"Pardon?" Elaine looked up, frowning. "Oh, I don't know. Saturday? Why don't you, ah, consult the calender?" she suggested, looking down at her work once more.

Gail almost left then. Almost.

She had confronted Elaine before – that day in the precinct that she still remembered with shaking hands and an uneasy feeling in the pit of her stomach. That day when she had done everything, _everything_, right and still her mother had tried to find fault in her. Elaine had since tried to connect, to bond with her, and Gail was tired. She was tired of yelling, of having to push and show those outlines, of trying time and again and nothing changing. Of hoping, and being let down.

But she deserved something. Surely. "What _day_ is it, mother?" Gail asked again. Her eyes were fixed on the ground, hand hanging limply from the doorhandle.

"Oh Gail," Elaine huffed. She pulled off her glasses and fixed her daughter with a look of disapproval. "It is Saturday," she said, glancing at the desk calendar. Do you want the time as well?" Her question was stated with stern tones. "I am trying to work." She sounded so…reasonable, Gail noted. So reasonable and so certain. "Do you want to take me away from my work, is that it?"

Push it or back away? Tell her or leave it alone?

"No," Gail said. And then, "I'm sorry." Because the day had been blessedly strangely almost incomprehensibly wonderful and the only thing that would come of confronting her mother would be a momentary victory – that small surge of glee in her chest that accompanied biting words and caustic remarks made more painful because they were the truth – and then that endless crushing knowledge that Elaine had forgotten. That she, Gail, wasn't worth remembering. And that wasn't something that Gail wanted. So she pushed out of the room and shut it gently behind her and then sat on her bed but she found, of course, that without that singular victory, victory that came from confronting her mother, she still sat in that inevitable quagmire of knowledge that Elaine didn't care. Enough. Didn't care at all. _Enough_. Didn't even spare her a passing thought. Enough, please, that was all she could bare. But it was already too much because everything had been so, so wonderful and she felt like she was floating on air but suddenly she was made aware – suddenly and devastatingly – in a not so gentle reminder that what goes up must come down and she came down to earth and it felt like she was shattering. And when she tried to pick herself up and through, all around was uneven footing and treacherous pits that she could easily slip into and never resurface from and bubbles of toxic thoughts surrounded her in a smog that came closer and closer and her blanket was no defence against the monsters of the mind.

When it made sense – when Gail's question about the day and the date formed a reluctant answer in Elaine's mind – it was already too late. She stood from her desk and made her way to Gail's room but it was empty.

If she had looked, she would have found that a bottle was missing from her liquor cabinet and that the back door was unlocked. She didn't look. And she could explain that whole series of events away in many different ways: she was a busy woman; memory like a sieve, no grasp for dates; it was late and she was tired; or simply that she had forgotten. But the message – I don't care I don't care I. don't. care. I _don't _care – was heard loud and clear in the empty, echoing home where too much space was a heavy thing on heavy hearts.

Elaine didn't try to call or message. Gail was gone; so she was gone. That was it. She could look after herself. She was a smart, capable girl. It was childish of her, yes, but Gail was prone to such tantrums. An over-reaction.

This one was different.

Elaine returned to her desk and, though in the back of her mind she might have run through all those dangers dark nights brought with them, she fell back into her work with a focus that blocked out all else.

For Gail though…for Gail, it was different. She was cold and tired and she was wearing her birthday clothes and enjoying the stamp the boots made on the concrete and the warmth of her jacket and the smooth slip of leather under her fingers as they rubbed curiously at the cuff of her sleeve, gripping and pulling nervously, and there was the coldness of the bottle in her right hand and every now and again, hesitant at first then more confident, the burn of liquor in her mouth and down her throat and settling in her stomach only to inch and then roar through her veins and she felt some settling mix of maudlin joy. All her pain, suddenly, was something to laugh about and she felt like she had finally, finally caught up to everyone else. Gail's pain was _funny_, she realised. Gail's pain was a joke. Who cared about Gail? There was nothing wrong with Gail – so it had to be a joke, right?

Her feet answered the question for her, pulling her to a familiar door. It was a long walk and the bottle – starting full – was missing a sizeable amount by the time Gail began knocking on Holly's front door with her forehead.

"Gail?"

Oh. Oh no. Oh. Oh, that was Anne. Gail wanted to laugh because this was Holly's house, Holly's front door, but was it really? Because that wasn't Holly. Did Holly not want to talk to her? Or was it that this was the place, Holly lived here, but so did Anne and so did Lucy, it was a family. A whole family in the house and she didn't have a family. Hey. Why didn't she have a proper family?

"Gail, sweetie, why don't you come on inside. Okay? I'll get you some water." Anne's hand touched her shoulder very lightly and urged Gail over the threshold, helping her over the very slightly raised step, and inside. Anne reached for the bottle. Gail, obviously, hugged it to her chest in the crook of her elbow and wandered into the front hall, dragging the first three fingers of her free hand along the wall.

"Nice," Gail was mumbling. "I like the walls. Nice colour. You too. Nice. You're real nice, Miss Anne, nice lady." She clumsily touched photos, trailing her fingers along happy smiles she hadn't dared look at let alone touch before. "Sorry about the home coming," she said and Anne deciphered that as coming into her home, this home, uninvited and late at night.

"That's alright, sweetie. How about you sit down, yes that's right. Right there. And here's your water," Anne said and, swift and neat as anything, she switched them so that she was holding the bottle of liquor and Gail was clutching two-handed to a plastic cup.

"That's mine," Gail said. She pouted. Then frowned. Then pouted again. "That's mine."

"You looked like you were going to drop it," Anne said, and if she was lying she certainly wasn't going to admit that to Gail. "And I don't think we should drop it or let it break. We don't want glass lying around, do we?"

"No," Gail mumbled. "Lucy Holly. Lucy, they could," she swallowed a little water and hazily tried to follow where her thoughts were taking her. "I don't want them hurt," she whispered as though that were some kind of secret.

"Well then how about I put it somewhere safe?" And Gail nodded quickly and Anne left her for just a moment to pour it down the sink and place the bottle in the bin. "Gail?" she asked, grabbing the girl's attention as she returned. "Why were you drinking?"

"I…" Gail's eyes slid out of focus and when she did return, seeing, all she knew was that the face in front of her was not the one she was used to, not the one she wanted. "Holly?" She blinked a few times but the features – adult sharp, lacking the softness of Holly's, lacking that dimple in the chin – didn't rearrange themselves into Holly's. "Holly?"

"I'm Anne," the woman said. She was worried. Gail had clearly drunk far more than she should have and while she didn't want Holly to see her and follow her example, well, Gail needed Holly and Anne knew that Holly was clever and not even moderately interested in drinking heavily. "I'll get her for you, sweetie."

Gail smiled and lolled her head back to stare at the ceiling and there were footsteps and murmurs and clinking and shuffling and more murmurs and then a warm hand was touching Gail's hand and another hand was around the back of her head and lifting gently, propping a pillow behind her head so that Gail could look right at Holly.

She smiled.

"Hey," she said cheerfully. She was so determined to be cheerful. And why not? It was _Holly_ – wonderful, brilliant, sweet, happy, lovely, wonderful Holly. Gail smiled again. "Hey!"

"Hey." Holly was nervous but oh so gentle and calm and she folded herself onto the couch next to Gail and took her hand in both of hers and smoothed her thumb over it and smiled again. "You're drunk."

Gail nodded.

"Mom is making some food. Have you finished your water?" Gail shook her head no. "Okay, well, let's have some more. Okay?" She lifted up the cup and Gail drank obediently. Holly intercepted hands that reached for her, holding them firmly but gently in her own hands and letting Gail pout as much as she wanted to before she forgot what she wanted and decided that she wanted something else. Holly listened as Gail yabbered in happy tones – not always understandably English, in French occasionally the brunette thought – and responded to Gail's questions. And then, later, Gail ate some food and, when Gail's cheeks took on a vaguely green tinge, Holly helped her up the stairs as Anne looked on worriedly and she smiled reassuringly even though her stomach was turning and her heart was thumping wildly.

"I need to throw up," Gail told her.

And Holly just nodded because she knew that and Gail stumbled to the toilet and hung pitifully over it and retched until there was nothing left in her stomach. Holly wiped the back of her neck with a handtowel and waited.

"You done?" Holly asked after the fourth time. Gail held herself very still but the rioting in her belly had stopped. She nodded slowly. "I'm going to grab you a toothbrush, okay?" She squeezed Gail's hand firmly. "Wait here." When she came back, Gail perked up a little and smiled and managed to feel contrite about all the trouble she was causing. "It's alright," Holly said, pressing the toothbrush into Gail's hand. "You clean up, brush your teeth well, wash your face. And drink some more water, okay?" Gail nodded. "I'm going to go make up another bed."

With Holly gone, Gail somehow managed to pull herself up onto slightly unsteady feet. She gripped onto the sink and with slow movements – and slightly angry at first, as she tried to pull the cover off the toothbrush she'd been given – did what Holly had told her to do. When that was done – and Holly _still_ not back – Gail started looking around the room because maybe there was something else that she was supposed to do and she just hadn't heard it when Holly had told her.

The glint of metal caught her attention. Small silver scissors sitting neatly on the counter. She picked them up and snipped them in the air, liking the sound they made as they cut at nothing. She did it again. The light played off them nicely and Gail looked up at her reflection in the mirror.

She gripped the ponytail and held the scissors to the tie, snipping across it. The hair gave way after a few good cuts and then she was left with silver in one hand and platinum in the other.

She looked at herself again.

It was different. She squinted. Better, maybe? Different.

Then came a tap on the door and it was opened and then Holly was standing there and her eyes widened as she took in the shorn, passive girl who was still looking at herself in the mirror.

"Oh."

"What do you think?" Gail asked. "Will my mother look at me now?"

Holly hadn't been sure, before, why Gail had turned up as completely drunk as she was. She thought, perhaps, that Dov had gotten her drunk in celebration. She was eighteen – she could drink if she wanted to. But now, Holly had the dawning, stomach-sinking knowledge that Gail hadn't been drinking for fun. She was drinking to forget or to dull or to feel something or nothing and she'd known it was a possibility but confirmation was different and it made that heavy rock of sadness heavier and hotter.

"Your mom, huh?" Holly said, stepping fully into the bathroom. "She's an idiot." She wrapped an arm around Gail and, thinking about the best place for this, helped her into the bathtub.

"Are we showering together?" Gail asked, a frown of confusion smudging her forehead. "Because I don't think I'm ready for that yet."

Holly laughed softly. She helped Gail sit, cross-legged, in the bath. "No. We're just going to fix up your hair."

"Oh." Gail reached up and ran a hand through it, touched it. "I did that." She touched the jagged ends. "I thought it'd be good." She looked at the length of hair in her hand. "I look into the mirror and I don't see me, you know?" Holly didn't know, not exactly, but she nodded a yes. "I didn't see me. How can you look at yourself and not see you? And I thought, cut it. Maybe it's the hair. You know? Because there's only so much I can change and maybe this is it." She patted her hair again, her fingertips carding through the now short hair. Her face twisted in an expression that Holly recognised as slowly growing panic. "What did I do?"

"You cut your hair."

"Oh." Gail covered her mouth with both hands and looked wide-eyed over at Holly. "I cut my hair." The brunette nodded. "Oh." And then Gail was crying, her shoulders shaking, and she moved her hands so Holly couldn't see her face. Holly sat next to her and laid her hands on Gail's knees, rubbing her thumbs softly over the denim of her jeans.

She does that until Gail's hands drop away. Then Holly wipes Gail's face and she reaches for the scissors and she swipes her fingers through Gail's hair and sees how it falls and does her best to fix it for her Gail.

Gail touches Holly's smile later. Holly is snipping so carefully at Gail's hair, trying to get it to sit right. And her face is right there and her lips are curved upward in such an easy, sweet smile. So Gail touches it. She trails a curious finger over Holly's lips and Holly holds her breath and takes her hands away from Gail's head because she doesn't want to make a sudden movement and make the hair disaster even more of a hair disaster.

Gail moves so very, very close and peers up with blue eyes that are entrancing, enrapturing. Holly can't breathe. She stops before their lips touch.

Holly sighs. Was that relief? She thought it might have been relief.

"I want to kiss you," Gail murmurs.

Holly nods. "I know."

"I'm not going to." Gail swallows. Holly nods. It was a drunk thing. She understood. "I will later. When I'm not totally…" Gail puttered to a stop, her tongue stumbling and freezing over the last word, the word having lost itself momentarily. Holly smiled.

"Drunk?"

"Yes." Gail nodded. "That's it! That's the word. Drunk. Drinkied. Drunk. Drunk. Tomorrow?" she asked abruptly and Holly tilted her head questioningly to the side.

"What about tomorrow?"

"Can I kiss you tomorrow?"

Holly smiled and lifted her hands and touched Gail's cheek to keep her still. She started snipping carefully again. "Maybe, Gail. If you ask nicely."

"I am always nice," Gail told her and Holly made a noise that sounded like a snort. Gail's face rearranged itself slowly into a frown. "'Scuse you! What was that?" She pointed a finger at Holly's nose. It was slightly off but close enough. "I _am_ nice. I am a nice person. I am _always_ nice."

* * *

Gail woke in the morning and her head felt as though it would hurt less if she had been beheaded. She reached up to grip it tight and her fingers curled into chopped locks and suddenly her breath halted in her chest.

Oh god.

Her head thumped in synch with her heart – which was beating _fast_.

Oh god.

She was about to fall straight into panic when a cool hand worked her fingers out of her hair – she was pulling on her hair, she realised – and pulled it down onto the blanket. Gail obediently clutched at the blanket and then opened her eyes to peer up at a friendly face that held a smile – a you-are-an-idiot smile – no. Better than that. You-are-an-idiot-you-are-_my_-idiot smile. Gail relaxed and her head sunk into a soft, cool pillow, and her memories came flooding back.

"I cut my hair," she gritted out of a raw throat.

"Yep."

"I freaked out a bit."

"Oh yeah." Holly grinned.

"Your mom probably hates me," Gail said, remembering the thoroughly obnoxious way she had knocked repeatedly and loudly on the front door – with her own head, no less.

"Nah, she still loves you. She's worried though. Oh and she's making pancakes. Do you like choc-chip pancakes?"

Gail nodded. Then she waited for a little while, turning to lie on her back and then easing her way up into a sitting position and Holly knew what she was doing and waited with her, not pushing at all. But Gail was waiting for Holly to bring it up because she didn't want to have to do it herself but one look at Holly's face told her she would be waiting for a long time. So she released a sigh and leant back on the wall behind her, gingerly minding her throbbing head.

"I tried to kiss you."

"Yep."

"You didn't want to."

"You were drunk, Gail. And actually, if you remember, you were the one to stop the kissing from taking place. Not me."

"So you were going to take advantage of me?"

"_Gail_," Holly laughed. "No, I was not going to take advantage of you."

"But I was just so irresistible that you wouldn't have been able to help yourself. Right?"

"I would have stopped you if you hadn't stopped yourself, you ass."

"Oho! An insult." Gail held her hand up to her chest. "I'm wounded, Stewart." She grinned over at her friend.

"Not used to it?" Holly asked after a moment. Gail frowned, confused. So Holly reached up and tangled her fingers with Gail's, pulling her hand away from her hair. Gail had been running her fingers through her hair again and again.

"Oh. Guess not." Holly nodded. It was understandable. She played with Gail's hand.

Gail watched her. Holly was in pyjamas, a tank and long boxer shorts, and Gail could see a bra strap that she assumed was thanks to her presence. She looked tired but she shone in that way that only Holly could – with a vibrant and cheerful light that lent a sparkle to her eyes and a flash to her smile that just, ugh, Gail found herself getting sappy and stupid about.

"Holly?"

"Yeah?"

"About that kiss," Gail started.

"Oh, Gail, it's okay if you didn't mean to. I mean, you _were_ really drunk and I totally get making mistakes when you're not all there and,"

"Holly?" Gail interrupted. "It…I don't really make mistakes," she said with a tinge of her natural confidence. "And I would like to kiss you. If that's okay with you," she stuttered out the last phrase, completely cancelling out her confident tone.

She didn't move though, and Holly guessed that Gail had used up all of her confidence in saying that, in exposing her thoughts like that, and so it was her turn to act then. She shuffled a little closer until, both of them cross-legged on the bed, their knees touched. Her hand skidded lightly up Gail's arm pausing at her elbow to trace her thumb over the end of a sleeve, and jumping up to her neck. She cupped Gail's face gently and when Gail's eyes fluttered closed, she leant in and pressed their lips together. _Wow._ When she pulled back a moment later, a grin flashing into place, Gail frowned – eyes still closed – and grabbed Holly's collar to yank her in again. The kiss stayed tender and mostly chaste but this time, with more time, Holly felt the returned pressure of Gail's lips and the way she smiled into it and Gail's hand coming up to wrap around Holly's wrist carefully. Holding her close. And it felt like everything it was supposed to feel like: fireworks and lightning and little sparks of chemistry jumping between all of their nerves. And it felt like someone touching them because they wanted to, because it was nice and felt right, and it felt like great shocking waves smashing into them and leaving them breathless because it was powerful and intense and it felt like dizziness and Gail's hand held tight to the blankets, not wanting to float away.

**Yay! Hope you liked it. I know that Holly seems like an angel and she is – she is Gail's perfect person – but don't worry. I have plans for her. Happy reading, readers :) **


	14. Chapter 14

**How The Light Gets In: Chapter Fourteen**

**I don't own Rookie Blue**

**Please enjoy.**

_Unless i'm reading an assignment or doing a paper or taking a test, i'm thinking about you.—v.c. andrews_

* * *

After a few more shy kisses – seven kisses, seven perfect kisses all chaste and sweet and slow that Gail imprinted the feel of into her memory because she never wanted to forget them – they fell back to sleep. The sun had long since risen but they were wrapped up in one another and exhausted. Thrilled, of course, and slightly off kilter with everything that had happened so quickly so they laid down next to one another silently.

Holly, swallowing her nerves, touched fingers lightly to the back of Gail's hand and slid them into her hold. Gail squeezed. Then she shifted onto her side and let her eyes skitter over Holly's features. She had questions. So many questions. But, when she pillowed her head on Holly's shoulder and closed her eyes, she realised they could wait. A yawn. Holly played with a few strands of hair that refused to lie flat. And finally, finally, Holly's head drooped and her cheek squished where it met the top of Gail's head and she fell into a deep sleep.

That was how Anne found them an hour or so later. She couldn't help but smile. It was innocent and sweet and they looked, she thought, like rather a beautiful couple. They were still holding hands. But they were _also_ still young and underneath her roof and she had to torment Gail just a little for turning up drunk and for thinking it alright to sleep in the same bed as her daughter. So Anne clanged a wooden spoon hard, loud, and repeatedly against a pot.

Gail fell out of the bed.

"Good morning, my darlings."

Holly opened bleary eyes – she was a heavier sleeper than Gail, clearly – and then, frowning, patted the bed next to her. "Gail?" She reached out further but the space was empty. "Gail?"

A blonde head popped up and, groaning, hauled herself to her feet.

"Ugh."

"Gail," Holly said again, relieved.

"Good morning," Anne interrupted.

Gail blanched white – an impressive feat for such a pale girl – and then turned slightly green and she backed into the wall behind her, stumbling slightly. She opened her mouth but no sound came out.

Holly came awake then. She blinked sleep from her eyes and pushed up onto her arms. "Mom?"

"Breakfast is ready. But I see that you two are having plenty of fun," she said, grinning. "Hmm?"

"Mom," Holly hissed, eyes darting over to Gail who hadn't moved and still looked green. "Gail?" Gail croaked a little. Her shoulders were hunched and eyes fixed on the ground. "Gail?" Holly shuffled to the edge of the bed and reached out but Gail wavered in place, leaning away from the hand.

Anne waved a hand at her daughter and Holly sat, quiet and still. "This is new," she said, coming forward slowly to examine Gail's hair. Gail still didn't move. "Holly has very steady hands, you know, and they will be wonderful for suturing eventually but cutting hair?" She made a small sound in the back of her throat, a tut almost, and reached up to touch a jagged end. "Not so great."

Holly pouted, offended. She thought she'd done quite well, given the circumstances. "Hey," she protested.

"It's true." Anne examined the girl – she looked like an albino hedgehog. Adorable, yes, but given that she was human and _not_ a hedgehog, possibly not fit for society. "That's alright. I'll take you to get it fixed after breakfast."

Gail looked up then, blue eyes wide and confused.

"Well, I'm certainly not taking you right now," Anne said to that expression. "To be perfectly frank, sweetie, you need a shower. And some food in you. Go." Gail shook her head slowly and turned to peer at Holly. The light was making her eyes hurt a little and her head was pounding and she didn't know what was happening or why she wasn't being yelled at or banished from the house. Holly's mother was confusing.

Holly didn't help one bit. She just stood and kissed Gail thoughtlessly on the cheek before pushing at her hip until Gail was walking into the bathroom because now that she thought about it, Gail did sort of smell like a distillery. "Go on," she said, nodding.

Gail disappeared into the bathroom with many a backward look but, trusting Holly, left the two of them alone.

"_So_," Anne said immediately, perching herself on the edge of Holly's bed. "This is interesting."

Holly groaned. "No, please don't."

"Shush. I'm your mother. Tell me everything."

"No."

"You have to."

"No, I don't." Holly folded her arms and scowled at the ground.

"Oh yes you do, young lady, because thatgirl turned up at _my_ door last night drunk off her ass and asking to see you and not only did I let you two figure out whatever it was, I left you two alone. Not many mothers would do something like that."

"I know but,"

"And need I remind you that this is _my_ house?" Anne asked, really getting into the swing of the whole 'lecture mode'.

"No but,"

"No. So. Tell me everything."

"I don't really know anything," Holly admitted. "Just that she left with Dov and something happened and then she showed up here three hours later, fully trashed." She held up her hands in surrender. "That's all I know, I swear."

"Hmm." Anne examined her daughter's face but it was open and honest and she believed her. She nodded her acceptance of that and they sat together for a little while before Anne said, "I like her."

"Yeah?"

"Yes. I do. I think she's sweet in a very…" she hesitated, not wanting to say the words secretive or hidden but thinking them very loudly.

"I know." Holly shrugged. "She's weird. It's kind of cute though."

"And you like her?" Anne asked.

"Yes." Holly ran her hands through her hair. A few strands fell teasingly in front of her eyes and she huffed, moving to grab a tie. She pulled her hair back in a pony tail. "I like her a lot, mom." Her mother nodding, mulling that over in her mind for a moment.

"You know, Holly," Anne said, patting the bed next to her. Holly flopped down next to her mother and let herself be wrapped in a one armed hug. She leant into her mother and Anne turned slightly to look down at Holly. "She seems to me a little like a stray cat." Holly grinned at the image. "And now that we've fed her, I don't think she'll ever leave."

"I don't really want her to," Holly said.

"Lucy would agree with you there." The two – alike in so many ways – shared a smile because they both knew how completely thrilled little Lucy would be with the idea that Gail would be around all the time. "I just don't know how practical it would be," Anne admitted very quietly after a moment or two. "I'm not saying that she can't stay, just that we can't," she continued, knowing that Holly would be on the same wavelength as her. And Holly nodded, confirming that. Their mouths twisted a little in thought. "But the idea of just letting her leave," she sighed. "I'm afraid she hadn't had a very good time of it lately. Am I right?"

Holly hesitated. "I don't know. She hasn't really told me anything."

"But it's about her mother."

"You were eavesdropping last night?" the girl accused, eyes narrowing.

Anne brushed that away with a simple, "It's a mother's right to worry." She had respect for Gail – even drunk, she had expressed concern for Lucy and Holly and had been nothing but polite to Anne – and didn't think that she would ever purposefully hurt Holly, but she had been drunk and that had made Anne nervous. So, yes, she had listened closely to them and hovered nearby.

"Right." Holly rolled her eyes.

They sat for a time quietly, the only sound the pattering of water coming from the shower and the occasional curse as Gail tried to figure out the way the dials worked.

"We can't keep her," Anne said. "I just don't have the money."

"I know, mom." Holly slid her hand over to cover her mother's and she nodded. "It's okay. Gail will be fine. And _we_ will be fine. I promise." Anne nodded. "It's like you always tell me. Let's get through today. It'll be an amazing day. You'll see." She nudged her shoulder and waited until her mother smiled. "You'll see."

* * *

"You really don't have to do this, ma'am," Gail said, trailing along behind Anne. "I mean, it was my fault. And you already hosted that party, which was, you know, more than you needed to do. So you_ really_ don't have to pay for-"

"Gail?" Anne interrupted. Gail snapped her mouth shut. She eyed the woman warily. "I feel bad that my daughter, apple of my eye, whom I carried within me for nine months, has such terrible hair cutting skills. I can't help but feel at least partially responsible."

"You're being weird, mom," Holly said.

"Well you can't cut hair."

"It's not that bad," she protested.

"On the contrary, it's very bad." Anne leading them through the mall.

"Oh shut up. Like you could do any better," Holly said, folding her arms over her chest. She was starting to sulk.

"At least I know when I can't do something. Clearly, I'm smarter than you are since I'm getting Gail some help."

"Right." Holly's pout came out fully, sulk intensifying. Looking between the two of them, Holly walking next to her, Anne leading and holding Lucy's hand, Gail poked Holly's arm. "Yeah?"

"I thought you did okay," Gail told her very quietly.

"Really?" Eyebrows jumped up Holly's forehead in surprise. She was about to tell her mother what Gail had said when the blonde shook her head.

"Not really." Holly's face fell. "But you're really great at other stuff," she said, trying to remedy the situation.

"Oh yeah?" Holly moved so that her arm was brushing against Gail's. "Like what?" she asked with a sultry smile.

"Well,"

"Please, girls, I am _right here_," Anne reminded them loudly. "And so is Lucy."

Gail and Holly shot away from one another – they hadn't realised that they were leaning in so close, lips quirking into inviting smiles and eyes dragging down to those red lips – coughing and shifting awkwardly in place. Lucy turned around to make faces at them. Gail returned the ugly, scrunched up expressions until Anne laughed and then she stopped, remembering what was and was not appropriate in social situations, and busied herself with her phone.

Holly seemed to have some form of 'Gail is uncomfortable' meter because she smiled and let their hands touch lightly. Her smile widened when Gail just looked at it for a moment and then slipped her hand into Holly's.

"Bobbi," Anne said happily, stopping. "I'm so glad I caught you."

"Oh hey. What can I do you for?"

"This," Anne said, wrapping an arm around Gail's shoulders and tugging her forward, "is our friend Gail." She felt the girl stiffen under her touch and saw her chin come up automatically, spine straightening too into perfect posture. "She's in a bit of a crisis."

"Hmm." Bobbi examined Gail, knowing that the girl was doing the same for her.

And boy was she ever. Because Bobbi was tattooed and pierced and brightly coloured and Gail's breath caught because she was stunning and smiling and she looked a bit like the kind of woman her mother would tell her to arrest or at least watch carefully. All Gail could see was: glasses, a tattoo sleeve covering her right arm, one tattoo sneaking across her cleavage, purple pink hair, a nose ring, a sweet green dress, cute boots and frilly socks, charisma and charm overflowing and above all, Gail saw _nice_. She looked like a walking contradiction but then Gail had to grin when the phrase 'sugar and spice' came to mind, a phrase that fit the woman aptly.

"Sure, love. No problem."

"Are you sure?"

Gail blinked. She seemed to have missed out on some of their conversation, absorbed in staring at Bobbi.

"Absolutely. I owe you one anyway. Now, let me get a good look at ya," she said, peering at Gail. After a moment or two, she nodded decisively. "We can work with this. A bit off here," she touched the sides, "neaten this up a little," to the fringe, "not a problem." Bobbi waved a hand to one of the chairs inside her little shop and Gail shuffled over. When she looked up, Anne and Holly were gone and Lucy was hopping up into the seat next to her.

_Hi_, Lucy signed, when she was done spinning around in the chair.

_Hey_. _Where are the others?_

_Bookstore_. Lucy kicked her feet. _Mom left me to make sure B-O-B-B-I does a good job_.

_You're my_ – Gail paused, not knowing the word for back up. _Hero_, she signed instead and Lucy beamed, chest puffing up in pride.

_Can you get hair like Bobbi's?_ Lucy asked. _Pink for you_.

_No_.

_Green?_

_No._

_Blue?_

Gail pursed her lips, thinking. Lucy's face grew more and more excited. _Maybe. _

_Really_? Lucy bounced in the chair.

Gail grinned sweetly. _No_. She laughed when Lucy's expression was taken over by a pout and the girl sunk back into her chair, kicking her feet and trying to hit Gail.

"Alright girls, we ready?" Bobbi returned with a trolley of scissors and all those things hairdressers wielded. She gestured for Gail to turn and face the mirror. "What's got you all down in the dumps, Luce?" She asked. Her hands were cool as she lightly touched Gail's chin and jaw, tilting Gail's head into the position she wanted.

Gail listened to the most one-sided conversation she had ever heard, eyes closed so as not to have to see her jagged haircut.

"Oh yeah. She'd look cool with blue hair.—I don't think so.—Well, I probably shouldn't do it without her permission.—When you're older, Luce.—Oh man, that would be so cool!.—Nah, we could work on your mom, she'd totally let you do it.—Green? Sure, you'd look cute in green.—Well, that's a _touch_ illegal so you'll have to wait until you're eighteen to get that done.—You might change your mind."

Gail had to smile because, silent though Lucy might be, she thought she might know what Lucy was talking to Bobbi about.

"Are you watching my hair or her hands?" Gail asked after a while, the thought occurring to her when she remembered that she was trusting this lady with the fate of her hair.

"Little bit of both, sweet," Bobbi replied. "Lucy tells me you want blue hair?"

"No thank you."

"Thought not." She ran her hands through Gail's hair and then made a proud sound. "Alright. There we go. What do you think?"

Gail looked up into the mirror and blinked. She looked different. She tilted her head from side to side, keeping her expression mild. She quite liked it. It wasn't a bowl cut, thank god. She didn't think that even she could pull that off. But it was no longer jagged or slightly lopsided like it had been. Instead it was soft and choppy and light, and Gail found her lips turning up at the edges. She nodded.

"Great." The hairdresser played with it for a moment or two longer, making it sit just as she wanted it, before declaring Gail finished.

When she wandered out of the store and joined Anne and Holly, who had gone to do heaven knew what while Bobbi had been chopping gleefully at her hair, she turned to Holly with cautious eyes and raised her eyebrows in a question.

"Hey," Holly greeted her. "You look hot," she said with a quick grin.

"Yeah?"

"Oh yeah." She wasn't sure if she was allowed to kiss Gail in public, or in front of her mother, so she just touched Gail's elbow lightly and softened her smile. "You look beautiful."

Gail flushed and looked away quickly from her girl-her frien- her girlfri-friend? – oh fuck it. Holly. She looked away from Holly and glanced at Anne before dropping her gaze to the floor. She shuffled a little.

"Thank you so much," Gail said, her voice sincere and soft. "I really appreciate it."

"Consider it a birthday present," Anne said, "and think nothing of it." Pulling Gail into a one armed hug was the next logical step and the one after that was inviting her back to their place to finish the leftovers from the party. "I believe we still have a few packets of cheese puffs. Holly seemed to think that everyone would eat them but,"

"They were Gail's," Holly explained. "No one would dare to touch them."

"Hey," the blonde protested. Then she shrugged. "That's true." She closed her eyes and leant into Holly until they reached the car, where she made no attempt to hold herself up and leant fully against the girl. She was still so tired. Drinking half her body weight in alcohol was clearly a bad idea.

"You feeling okay?" Holly asked, brushing her fingers through Gail's hair. The blonde grunted and leaned further into Holly, who held her close, and she let the repetitive strokes lull her to sleep.

"Gail," Anne said a few moments later, "I was wondering if we could talk about-"

"Mom," Holly hissed. "Sleeping. Not now."

Anne checked the rear view mirror and, lo and behold, Gail was thoroughly asleep against Holly's shoulder. "You look like you make an excellent pillow," she teased her daughter. "Is her seatbelt on properly?" she couldn't help but check.

"Yes mom." Holly tugged it a little to make sure, then said it again. "Yes. It's on properly."

"Well good." Anne had wanted to discuss some things – Holly and Gail's relationship for one, but that she knew would come to her in bits and pieces as Holly needed to talk about it and confided in her – but she stayed silent despite bursting curiosity.

They pulled into their street and Holly started to wake Gail, rubbing her shoulder gently. "Gail? Come on, kitten," she teased, knowing that Gail would death stare her if she heard that while awake. Anne pretended she didn't hear. Gail didn't react and the two Stewart's couldn't decide if they were relieved or disappointed. Well, Anne was disappointed. She would have liked to see how Gail reacted to that. "Gail, sweetie, we're home. Wakey wakey." She patted Gail's cheek lightly. "Come on."

"'M awake," Gail protested.

"No you aren't."

"Yes. I am." Gail tried to turn away from Holly but caught herself in her seatbelt and came awake with an abrupt jolt. "Huh? What?"

"We're home. In the car."

"Oh." Gail blinked and looked about. Then she saw someone sitting on the front stoop.

"Hello. Who's that?" Anne asked. Holly only saw glinting hair and a smile in the time that Gail saw him, recognised him, and threw off her seatbelt. She dove out of the car and ran to him and Holly couldn't contain a small flash of jealousy when Gail threw off any sleep left in her face and lit up with joy. She especially couldn't hide a smidgeon of jealousy when Gail jumped – literally _jumped_ into his arms.

Gail didn't see any of Holly's jealousy. She was too busy running and then burying her face into his shoulder and clutching him tight. He held her tightly in return and didn't let go even when his arms started to hurt just a tiny bit, nothing he couldn't handle of course, because he'd always been close with Gail but this level of affection was new and that told him that maybe, just maybe, she really needed it.

All the while, Holly lingered.

Anne, watching her daughter with a small smile, disappeared into the house with Lucy, who wanted to stay but obediently went inside. She stomped, though, to show her annoyance.

Gail was lowered to her feet slowly and then Steve stepped back and looked over at the brunette. He raised an eyebrow at Gail, who blushed, and then he nodded and scooped Holly up into a hug next. She froze with surprise.

"Hey!" Gail smacked him in the arm. "Let her go."

"But,"

"No! Down!" Steve set Holly on her feet and Gail scowled. "No touching."

"But,"

"No."

"Fine. It's nice to meet you then," Steve said, sending a mock glare Gail's way. "Oh, hey, wow. What did you do to your hair?" He saw the chance to do a double take and took it. "It looks good," he reassured her when her hands flew up to cover it.

"You think so?"

Holly felt that jealousy again. Gail didn't really show her vulnerability very often and she wasn't sure how she felt that Gail would let this very attractive man see her being sweet and nice and uncertain.

"Oh totally. You look super cute."

"I'm not cute," Gail scowled. "I'm badass."

"No, no you're definitely cute."

"Take it back!" she demanded.

"Never!" he said back, dramatic and loud. Then followed a few minutes of scuffling, which ended in him putting her in a headlock and her having to tap out, smacking her hand against his stomach.

"God, you're such an ass. And have you been _living_ in the gym or something?" She rubbed her hand gently. "I think I'm getting bruises from hitting you."

"Thanks," he said, chuffed. "I do my best."

Holly, throughout these exchanges, found herself growing more and more confused. Because, on the one hand the two of them were very attractive and would make a very attractive pairing. And on the other hand, they fought and swore at one another and were acting positively childish.

"Hey," Steve said out of the corner of his mouth. "Have you told Holly about me?" He nodded his head surreptitiously at the staring girl. "Because she's been doing that this whole time."

Gail shook her head. She'd forgotten to actually mention Steve more than in passing, in the hope that Holly would like her for, well, _her_ and not because of her brother and family. There was less of a chance of Holly falling madly in love with Steve now that Gail knew she was gay but still. Steve _was_ the better Peck.

"Gail, you're such an idiot," he told her happily. Then strode over to Holly and held out his hand. "Hey. Nice to meet you. I'm Steve."

"Holly."

"I'm Gail's brother," he told her.

"Oh!" Relief flooded her chest and she laughed. "Hi."

"So, where exactly am I?" Steve asked with a laugh. "Because as lovely as it is, this is _not_ our house, Gail." He slung an arm around her neck and pulled her into his side. He stopped short of ruffling her hair but it was a close thing. Gail frowned. "And it's not the 15. I know because I went there after I went to your house. And Oliver sent me…here."

"It's Holly's house," she told him.

"Ah." His already large smile stretched and Holly just stared because she couldn't understand, couldn't fathom, couldn't quite see how they were related – this smiling, jubilant man and the sulky, surprisingly sweet sometimes, but snarky Gail. "You here often?" he asked Gail and she stiffened and shrugged his arm off.

"Maybe."

"Did you want to come in?" Holly interrupted, seeing how defensive Gail was building herself up to be. It was written in the lines of her shoulders and her clenched jaw and she didn't want to be a part of a sibling tiff.

"Nah. I actually just came to pick up Gail. Is that alright?" he asked them.

Holly nodded slowly. She didn't want their time to come to an end – what if Gail changed her mind? They hadn't even spoken about the kiss and what it meant for them so what if Gail just chalked it down as experimentation and disappeared to find herself another tutor? But she nodded because she didn't have any right to Gail and if she wanted to leave, she could.

Gail didn't want to leave. She loved her brother and his coming to surprise her at any other time would have been a gift from god. It _was_, still, but right then? She wished he'd taken a little longer.

But she nodded as well and walked with Steve to his car and waved goodbye to Anne and Lucy who were watching from the window and she lingered for a moment by Holly but couldn't think of the right way to say goodbye so she didn't, just dropped into the car and kept her eyes focused away from Holly. She played with her phone as they drove away but it was too soon to text Holly, surely.

"I didn't mean to interrupt you guys," he said as he drove.

Gail shook her head, negating that. "It's fine."

"Come on, Gail. I know that you and Holly needed to have a chat." She turned to look at him and he shrugged. "Detective, remember?"

"Trainee detective."

"Still. That girl was looking at you like you were her whole world," he said. "Just in case you didn't see it."

Gail hadn't seen that. She allowed herself a tiny smile – because Steve was a very good cop and if he said it then it had a high chance of being true. Unless he was screwing with her. She narrowed her eyes.

"I swear to god," he said, raising one hand. "She likes you."

"I hope so. I don't just kiss anyone."

There was a moment of silence before Steve hooted and punched Gail in the shoulder. "Gail! What the hell? Why didn't you say anything? I swear, I will turn around and take you right back there if you want to because if you like her you _have_ to talk to her about it."

"No."

"No?"

"It's fine. Let's just…hang out. I'll talk to her later."

Steve took his eyes off the road for a moment to look over his little sister's face. She looked stoic and calm and mildly terrified. He snorted. "You have no idea what to say to her, do you?"

Gail sighed. Rubbed her hands over her face and then through her hair. "Not a clue."

"Walk me through it, Wail." When she groaned, he groaned right back, mocking her. "I have life experience. Trust me. Tell me everything and then we'll see about talking to your girlfriend. Come on," he urged.

"_Fine_."

So Gail told him about her birthday, about Holly putting together a party, about Elaine ignoring her – which elicited sympathetic clicks of his tongue – and about her getting drunk off her face. About arriving at Holly's house and her mother and the bathtub and cutting her hair and Holly and waking up next to her and kissing her.

He pulled into the car park of an old gaming arcade and bought them a buttload of tokens. He handed her half and they moved around the games, destroying.

"What was it like?" He shot at the aliens ahead of them.

"I don't know." Gail shrugged, uncomfortable. "Perfect, I guess."

He smiled. "You're such a nerd." They passed the level and he spoke again. "Okay, I've got it. Pretend I'm Holly."

"Number one, ew." Gail got a headshot and grinned. "Number two, why?"

"You want to text her something. Trust me. That girl is probably freaking out and thinking that this was a huge mistake for you because that's what people do. Girls especially, right?"

The game ended and tickets started pouring out of the dispenser. Gail shoved the plastic gun back in its holder and laughed.

"Oh please. I was there when you thought you were in love with Maddie O'Brien. You practically cried over your phone. There is no '_girls especially'_."

Steve cleared his throat. "Point taken. Nevertheless, pretend I'm Holly."

"Fine." She looked down at her hands. Then up at the roof. Then over at more blinking machines. Then up to the roof again.

"Okay. Wow. Very eloquent, Gail." She sneered at him and he clapped her on the shoulder. "Look, just text her. She'll want to hear from you."

"But what do I say? Do I say, hey, you're a really good kisser? Or do I thank her for the party or what?" She led them over to the whack-a-mole and though it was a game for four year olds, Steve obediently picked up a mallet. Gail didn't need help though. She slammed her mallet down on those moles, working out her frustration. "Do I," _whack_, "talk about us? Because that's,"_ whack_, "nothing. She probably just," _whack_,_ "_kissed me because I was there."

"Holly doesn't really seem like that kind of girl," Steve noted. "I think she likes you."

Gail bit her lip. "Take over," she commanded and then she walked away a few paces. She pulled over her phone and turned it over and over in her hand. Then, holding her breath, she messaged Holly.

_Sorry for ditching you_, she wrote. After a moment, she sent it.

The response was almost immediate. _No worries. I had work to do as well. What are you up to?_

_Arcade with Steve. Talking about you_. Oh shit. Gail hadn't meant to say anything about that. But what was done was done and maybe it would turn into something good, rather than just making Holly think that she was a bit of a stalker or obsessed.

_Oh really? All good things I hope_.

_Just that you're a nerd._ Gail worried her bottom lip with sharp teeth and then added,_ and that I kissed you_.

The response to that took a little longer. And all it came back with was a single question mark.

_?_

_What?_

_Really?_

Gail swallowed. _Should I not have? Fine sorry whatever_

_NO. _Messages, short ones, not even full sentences, sent her phone abuzz. Holly was clearly worried that she wouldn't get the words out fast enough and that Gail would ignore them. _Sorry that's not – what I meant I – thought you might not want to – talk about that because maybe you were still a little – drunk this morning and it was a mistake_

_I don't make mistakes_, Gail wrote. _I told you that._

_Right. Of course_. It wasn't right, Gail thought, that she could see Holly's face so perfectly in her mind. Every little change it went through – rolling her eyes, a twitch of a smile, a fond glance despite the snarkiness Gail liked to use. _So it was okay?_

_You could probably brush up on your kissing skills but yeah._

_Oh really? Maybe this is as good as I get. No more kisses for you if they aren't good enough_

_Fine they're okay you're like a measly 10/10 or whatever._

Steve touched Gail's elbow and waved a significant number of tickets in front of her. She snatched half of them and ran to the counter. After a few minutes, she spied what she really wanted and traded her tickets for five candy necklace and bracelet sets.

"Really, Gail? Aren't you a little too old for candy jewellery?"

"Never." She returned to her phone.

_I have to go. _

_Oh okay. See you Tuesday? Study session?_

_Okay._ Holly wanted to see her again. Gail grinned. She wanted to see her again and was making sure that they were still on for Tuesday study sessions. She had to restrain herself from sending seven more texts full of excitement because that would have been odd and not at all cool calm and collected like Gail always was. Except, for some reason, around Holly.

_Try not to drink a bathtub of alcohol first though?_

_I don't know. Sounds like fun._

Steve snatched the phone right out of her hands and, holding it up high so she couldn't reach it even when she jumped for it, he texted Holly and then handed the phone back. Gail checked it frantically.

_Gail has to go. We are going to raise hell. –Steve_

Gail scowled at him but before she could say anything, her phone buzzed.

_Sounds like fun,_ Holly had written, mimicking Gail's words.

_We'll invite you next time nerd_, Gail wrote. Then she slipped her phone into her bag and kicked Steve in the shin just because she could, and slid into the passenger seat. She was already chewing on her candy necklace.

"Where to?"

"Duh. It's the birthday trifecta, even if it is a day late, and that means the ABCs of fun." He roared out of the car park. "Arcade, bar, cake."

"I'm still underage," she reminded him.

"Batting cages?"

She wrinkled up her nose. Gross.

"B…Build-A-Bear? Boxing? Bar with non-alcoholic drinks?" She shrugged. "Bar it is."

* * *

And that evening, when Gail arrived home, Steve having to fly back that evening, she walked right past her mother and Elaine didn't care to say hello or mention her change in hair or apologise for missing her birthday. Gail did her best not to let it bother her. The buzzing of her phone with messages from Holly helped.

**Okay so that was basically a filler chapter. I'm sorry… Hope you liked it, let me know what you thought and what you would like to see. Happy reading, readers :)**


	15. Chapter 15

**How The Light Gets In: Chapter Fifteen**

**I don't own Rookie Blue**

**Please enjoy.**

_Some cause happiness wherever they go; others whenever they go.__—Oscar Wilde_

* * *

Gail stared at the ceiling with single-minded focus. There was only one thing she wanted. Just one teeny, tiny little thing.

"Gail?"

And that was for Chloe _not_ to talk to her. Not about this.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

Gail huffed a loud sigh and turned up her music. But did that stop the perpetually loud and excitable Chloe? No. It did not. Instead, Chloe moved so that she was sitting on the table and hovering over Gail's face and beaming widely.

"Gail?" she teased out, patting the blonde's shoulder.

"What?" Gail finally barked out, ripping out one of her earphones. "What do you want, Chloe?" She regretted giving an inch when Chloe dropped herself on Gail's lap. She seemed to understand that getting Gail's attention, especially right now, was all about not backing down no matter what. Gail wasn't impressed; Dov and Chris were, though, at Chloe's courage. They waited for bared teeth and tearing words.

"Nothing much. I thought we could have a bit of a chat, girl to girl." She narrowed her eyes at Dov and Chris, who quickly looked away and entertained themselves with guy things like hitting each other on the arm and sneakily pretending like they weren't listening to important girl gossip when that was all they wanted to do.

"Nope."

Chloe huffed, puffing out her cheeks. She frowned. "Gail."

"Chloe."

"_Gail_." Chloe hugged her friend around the neck, who grimaced and started pulling away. "Come on. You know you want to talk about it. Especially," she said, ruffling Gail's hair, "this."

"No."

"You know, I don't think you really get the idea of chatting with your girlfriends."

"Girlfriend?" Gail snarled. "What girlfriend? Who said girlfriend? I did _not_ say girlfriend. I don't have a girlfriend, okay?"

Chloe smirked. "I meant friend who is a girl. Wanna tell me something?" Chloe waggled her eyebrows; Gail sunk further into her seat and tried in vain to shove Chloe off her lap to no avail. When she gave up, Chloe was still there with her stupid smiling face and Gail groaned and screwed her eyes closed . "Gail-" Gail cut her off with a groan. "Did you-" A long, loud annoyed groan. Chloe huffed. "I'm just trying to-" The longest, loudest groan of all. "Your hair looks nice," Chloe blurted out, refusing to let Gail get out of the conversation.

The boys chimed in.

"Really nice."

"Looks good."

Chloe turned around slowly and the boys quailed in place. Right. Still girl talk.

"Will you get off me if I say something?" Gail asked her, very quietly. Her blue, blue eyes looked honest and nervous and Chloe nodded vigorously. "Okay." Gail bit her lip. "_Something_."

Chloe couldn't help but laugh – Gail's annoying streak was kind of funny. "Fine," she said, shifting off Gail's lap. "But seriously, you can tell me anything. To me, your girl friend. About, you know." She smiled sweetly. "Other friends. Who are girls."

"If you really must know," Gail said mostly because she was glad Chloe had moved away, it was like the bubble of words had moved up into her chest and out her mouth when Chloe had stopped blocking it with her annoying presence, "I kind of got incredibly intoxicated that night and I found myself at Holly's house and I did this," she said, with a wave at her hair, "and we kind of…the next morning...I kissed her," she said very quietly.

Chloe smiled and nodded.

The boys, less gentle with matters of the heart, started hollering and cheering. And Gail started smacking them. They weren't supposed to be listening, dammit.

It landed them all in lunchtime detention. Which wasn't so bad, when you thought about it. It meant they were shoved into a small room with a disapproving adult to glare at them for four minutes and then they were left to their own devices for the rest of the lunch period. And it wasn't significant enough for any parents to be contacted, thank god. Gail wasn't sure how she would explain that to her mother. '_Oh, you know, my friends and I were making a ruckus because they were excited that I had kissed a girl that they also really like and who is sweet and pretty, but I'm getting off topic. Yes, I disappointed you by making a spectacle of myself in public, I'm very sorry_'. That would go over well.

Then Gail was lounging in her chair, Chloe close by her side, and they were glaring at the boys. They had landed them in this situation.

"I'm thinking they have to carry our books around all week," Chloe contributed to the list of punishment. The boys' already long, moping faces lengthened and moped some more.

"Oh, that's a good one. I'll make sure to bring all my Biology books." Dov groaned. He walked Gail to Biology. His thin arms started shaking at the mere thought. "But that isn't enough." Gail traced her lips thoughtfully.

"No kissing?"

"Also a good one," she acknowledged, nodding. Dov started begging Chloe to retract that statement but the perky, annoying one was resolute. No kissing. "They have to make it up to us as well as being punished, don't you think?"

"Oh definitely. What did you have in mind?"

"Donuts," Gail said dreamily. "And chocolate."

"Oh my god, right? I've been having all kinds of cravings this week. Like, they had some chocolate covered orange peel things in the store and they looked _delicious_. I really want a packet."

Dov made a note of that.

Gail nodded. "I like honeycomb better. It makes a crunch when you bite into it and I like to pretend that it's someone's skull." Chris blanched.

"That's kind of creepy, Gail."

"You don't get to talk right now." He clamped his mouth shut but made eye contact with Dov who grimaced and nodded. See? Dov got it. It was creepy. "Totally uncool, guys. I can't believe you got us _detention_."

"Well what did you expect? You did say that you kissed _Holly_."

"Yeah. I mean, you said she was a cool nerd. We're excited for you," Chris agreed with Chloe. "Plus she threw you that party. She's nice."

"Totally nice," Chloe gushed. "I mean, she called me up and told me that Gail needed party supplies asap and I was like, what is that about?" She threw her hands up in the air. "But then she explained and at first I was like, _what_? Because Gail," there she threw the blonde a reproachful look and was flipped off in return, "didn't mention her birthday at all but then I got super excited because finally I got to talk to Holly and I mean, you talk about her all the time so I kind of felt like I already knew her, I knew she was smart and everything but, like, she is super_ super_ nice. And that's coming from _me," _Chloe laughed.

"Thank you for telling us all of those dreadfully exciting things," Gail drawled. Chloe kicked her knee lightly and pulled a face. "You'll pay for that when I can be bothered to move."

"Okay, wait." That was Dov. "Hold up. Are you gay now or something?"

"She was always gay," Chris said. "Maybe. Or, like, liked girls. A bit. At least a little, I mean, if she likes Holly. Right?" He frowned, black brows a confused crease. "It's not something you choose."

"Thanks for that," Gail nodded to Chris. She wasn't sure if she was serious or not but she did, in some way, appreciate that he was defended her. Or her romantic choices or whatever it was he was defending. "I don't know," she said to the ceiling.

"What don't you know?"

"If I'm gay." She shrugged. Not a big deal. Don't think about it. Everything is fine. She was calm.

"You might not be," Chloe said. Helpful, as always. "You could be bisexual. Or pansexual. Or Holly sexual." Gail groaned at that trope stuffed into a cliché. Please let this conversation end soon. "Oh don't start that again." Chloe swatted at her. "Talk to us. We're your friends."

"Never had any of those before, Gail?" Dov teased. He dragged his chair closer and turned it around so that he was straddling it, chest and arms draped over its back. His stupid face grinned at her kindly.

Gail thought for a long moment. When she had first moved here – beautiful house, nice neighbourhood, shitty reasons – she had been angry about leaving her friends. Terrible people, really. That hadn't given a damn about her. They hadn't messaged her or emailed her since she had moved away. And they honestly hadn't cared a whit about her while she was there, she realised. She'd actively disliked them.

"No," she mused out aloud. "I don't think I have." In the split second of silence after that statement, she regretted it with a sudden crushing sense of embarrassment and vulnerability. She cleared her throat. "But thank god I haven't stooped so low as to let _you_ be my friend. Hello, nerd alert," she jeered.

"Ha ha." Dov shoved her shoulder and grinned when her eyes flashed _d__anger_ at him.

When she looked around and saw they were all watching her with similar smiles of – ick, could it be? – fondness, she groaned. "What?"

"Tell us more about Holly."

"Yeah! You said she wasn't your girlfriend yet. Are you going to ask her out?"

Gail's stomach fell away with a lurch. Oh god. Dating. What a horrific thought.

* * *

Flowers. Flowers, chocolate? Music. Food.

Flowers. No. Chocolate…she's athletic, maybe chocolate is a no. No, no, no. Uh-uh. Gail Peck didn't make mix tapes for anyone so a venue, a place that had music – a place, she has to pick a _place_, a place to go, how does someone go about picking a place, what if it's the wrong one, what if she'd been to a place before and she didn't know that and took her to a place she'd been to and hated what was she supposed to do then – food, was food a safe option? This was useless. She had no idea. Deep breath.

Calm down.

Think it through.

Tuesday. It was Tuesday. That meant Holly, and that meant tutoring, and Chloe said 'that was how the two of you were brought together, right? Use it!' in that irritatingly knowledgeable way of hers that made it seem like someone so cheerful should definitely know what they were talking about. Right? Right.

But Gail was having second thoughts. Seventy-second thoughts, to be precise. She wavered in every step she took up the front path. Hesitated knocking on the door because what about flowers, shouldn't she bring flowers? Stayed standing right there in front of the door for an embarrassingly long time because what about food? Should she have baked something? Was that like some girly shit that people had to do to indicate affection or attraction? Because she had _both_ of those and she doubted that she would be able to show Holly that without a, making a complete idiot of herself and b, some kind of outside force to prove it like a written statement of confirmation. Or a flow chart from 'you're a nerd' to 'you're alright I guess and we should keep kissing'.

Where would she buy something like that? She'd probably have to make it.

She wasn't good at arts and crafts.

Focus. Think. It was Tuesday. Tuesday's with Holly. Holly and tutoring. And tutoring was for Biology and that was why…that was why…was why she has these papers and – Gail's feet shifted on the creaking boards outside Holly's house, her hands sweating – she didn't want to ruin them. Were her hands clenching? They were. When the crinkling sound reached her ears, she loosened her grip a little. Smoothed out the sheets.

Heart thumping wildly in her chest, Gail pulled her phone out.

_This is a terrible idea. _

Her phone buzzed a moment later. _No it isn't. Just be yourself._

_That is a terrible idea._

_Gail. _God, Gail could hear Chloe's voice in her head. _Go into that house and tell that girl that you think she's awesome and then ask her if she wants to go out somewhere. It isn't hard. _

_Oh yeah? How many girls have you asked out?_

_Two! We had a bunch of fun_

_Oh._ Well, that was two more than Gail had thought Chloe had asked out. She couldn't really imagine the girl dating anyone outside of Dov. They were so grossly perfect for each other.

"Gail, what are you doing?"

That was Anne, coming up behind her. She reached past Gail and pushed open the door. Gail, tucking her phone into her pocket, snagged one of the bulging grocery bags from Anne's arms and hauled it in for Anne.

"Oh thanks, sweetie." She brushed a thank-you pat onto Gail's shoulder. "You know the door is unlocked for you, why didn't you come in?" She pulled away a little. "_Holly_," she called up the stairs. "Gail is here!"

"But it's early," came the frantic voice. "Gail you're early!"

"Sorry?"

"Five minutes!"

Gail left Anne, after a little reassuring, to put away the groceries by herself and moved into the dining room. She dropped her bag in its place. Then she put the papers in the middle, between her place and Holly's. Moved them a little more toward Holly's seat. Then back. Then all the way over to Holly's seat. Then in front of herself. Then to the side. Then to the middle again. She frowned down at them. Then she stuffed them in her bag and decided to reveal them when the time was right. And Holly was taking forever so she stomped up the stairs and over to Holly's bedroom and knocked.

Holly yanked the door open and grinned. "Hey."

"Hey you."

"Two seconds?" the brunette asked, ducking away from the door.

Gail whined. "But I already gave you five whole minutes."

"And I appreciate that," the other girl called back to her. "But not all of us can look as effortlessly beautiful as you so give me a bit longer and I'll be up to hanging with you."

It felt like she was internally combusting, going red and hot and needing to shut down. Holly thought she was beautiful? That was…she scratched the back of her neck. That was a good thing. God, what was she doing? She knew that she was pretty – past boyfriends had attested to that but in those creepy panting 'take off your bra' kind of voices. Holly was just _saying_ it and Gail didn't know how to respond to that. So she turned on her heel and stomped down the stairs again and flung herself into her chair.

Holly bounded down a few moments later. "What's up?" she greeted Gail, sitting opposite her and dumping books and pens on the table.

"Not much. Starving, though. Spent like three hours waiting for this chick to hurry up and pretend like she wasn't dying to see me." Gail shrugged. "The usual."

"Oh, you've got girls hanging all over you. Is that it?"

Gail thought about it for a moment, lips pursed. "Yeah. Pretty much." Holly laughed and smacked her arm lightly – okay, not so lightly. But light-ish. "Ow. Abuse. I'm being cruelly hurt," Gail said loudly into the open air of the house.

Anne, from the kitchen, piped up with, "Suck it up, you big baby."

Not quite the support Gail was looking for. "Where's Lucy?" Gail pouted. "She's always on my side."

"Play date," Holly said with a shrug. "Sorry. Guess you're stuck with me."

"Ugh. Fine. You'll do." Gail flung herself down into her chair and rifled around in her bag for dramatic effect. After a moment, she pulled out the papers and shoved them across the table to Holly.

"What are these?" Holly asked, taking them. Gail sighed. It wasn't as though she had just handed them over with the express purpose of Holly reading them. No. She should ruin the surprise and _tell_ Holly what they were and- "Oh my god. Gail, this is great!" Gail shrugged. "Oh, you knob. This is _amazing._"

With Holly's genuine excitement, Gail felt herself light up a little. She was proud, she realised. She'd done well. A novel thought. A good thought. She allowed herself a smile.

The papers were, of course, all the assignments and exams she had done for biology in the last few weeks. All of them As. It was the same for the rest of her classes but Biology was the only one she needed to show Holly.

"So…" Holly lowered the papers. "What does this mean?" Her lips quirked into a grin. "Do you want a reward?"

"I can hear you still," Anne said loudly. She turned on a tap to mask their conversation. Holly winced.

"It means I don't need a tutor anymore," Gail said flatly. And Holly's smile faltered because…did that mean…were they not going to see each other anymore? Did Gail regret what had happened? But before she could ask any of that, Gail was talking again. Talking, though, was one word for it. Another might be slowly and painfully dragging the words out from the dark, clutching depths of her resisting chest because she knew that she should but the _what if_s kept running through her mind – what if Holly didn't like her, what if Holly said no, what if she was an idiot, what if she wasn't interested, what if what if what if. "So, since you don't have to tutor nerdy school kids anymore…" Gail bit her lip. "Are you free this afternoon?"

It took Holly a few moments to put together what Gail was asking. Even then, she had to be sure. "Are you asking me on a date?"

"No, I'm asking you if you want to kidnap the mayors daughter - _yes_. I am asking you on a date. Geez." Gail huffed and leant back in the chair. Her chin near about lowered to her chest. "It's not a big deal or anything I just thought since you and me kind of made out or whatever and you didn't freak out even when I freaked out a little"

"A lot."

Gail glared at the accurate interruption. "Fine. Whatever. A lot. Since you didn't freak out and you're kind of super hot or whatever and not _totally_ a nerd I thought maybe you would want to hang out with me at a place and we could eat food and listen to music and if you wanted to it could be classified as a date and-" Holly cut her off by standing, moving around to Gail's side of the table, and pressing her lips to Gail's.

"Sure. Give me a minute to get my jacket?" she asked when she pulled back. Gail blinked and Holly was gone. Then Holly was back seemingly in the next second and handing Gail her bag and saying something to Anne and then they were walking out of the house together and sliding into Holly's car. "You alright there, Gail?" Holly asked, trying not to laugh.

Gail nodded. She dragged her knees up to her chest – lowered her boots off the chair when Holly glared – and fiddled with her fingers. "I freaked out a bit," she admitted. "Rambled."

"I thought it was cute." Holly glanced into the rear view mirror and pulled out of the driveway. "Plus, I got to kiss you again. Totally a bonus in my opinion." She winked clumsily and Gail smiled. The smile seemed to crack something in her – her nerves, whatever it was that was keeping Gail from fully appreciating the fact that this awesome human being had agreed to go on a date with her – and she relaxed a little into the car seat. Not fully. She was still nervous, of course, but at least she wasn't on the verge of hyperventilating.

It was Holly, she reminded herself. And Holly was totally cool.

"Feeling better?" Holly asked after a few moments of Gail not freaking out.

"Shut it."

"Aww but you're so cute when you're nervous. Where to?"

"Diner. I'm starving."

"Diner it is. And then movies?"

"Okay."

* * *

"So," Holly started as they picked through their fries. "We should probably talk."

Gail screwed up her nose and chucked one of her fries over Holly's side of the plate, into the grossly offending little dollop of tomato sauce. "Do we have to?"

"No." Holly smiled. "But maybe?"

"I pride myself on being a very blunt person," Gail said, chomping a fry in half with vicious relish. "So I will tell you that what you just said didn't make _any_ sense. Yes or no?"

Holly umm-ed and ah-ed about it for a moment. "Technically no. We don't. Because I'm having a lot of fun here with you and being in the moment, you know, that's always a really good thing and I think that people need to appreciate things more as they happen. And I think that if-" She was interrupted when, taking a page out of Holly's book, Gail twisted in her seat to press a light kiss to Holly's cheek, brushing her lips at the corner of Holly's. "Right. Rambling. Sorry."

Gail shrugged. She hadn't minded. She quite enjoyed listening to Holly and figuring out the thought patterns her mind made. It was…it was fascinating. Like footprints in the sand that you adjusted your stride for and it kind of struck you for a moment that these were left by someone else, you were stepping in them but someone else had grown up, had bought shoes for growing feet, was decked out in jeans that fit them, walked in little dotted steps or powered through like a six league giant. Like the slime trails left behind by snails – that _particular_ analogy she might not mention to Holly – that glistened silver in the sunlight and shimmered a little, hard to quite pin down but you could trail your finger along it and see the where and the how – the why was still foreign.

The point was, she didn't mind. She could probably listen to Holly ramble on forever. But Holly had a point that she wanted to hear and that, Gail had no doubt, that Holly had wanted to actually _say_ at some point. Which was why she had urged it on with her kiss.

"Right. So you don't have to tell me. But I think maybe we should because I want to-" and the rest of her sentence was a mumble and Gail frowned.

"Want to what?"

"What?"

"What to what, Holly?" she asked, stern. No ducking away from my question, please, her tone said.

"Help. Help you. Help out. I don't know." Holly winced. "I'm sorry."

Gail just shrugged. She probably did need help. She would never accept it; her mother had given her that pearl of wisdom, never let anyone see you as weak or broken no matter how weak or broken you are because they will take advantage of that. "I'm fine."

Holly's face spasmed a little.

"This is feeling less like a date and more like a therapy session," Gail grumbled around her straw.

"Okay," Holly laughed. "Less therapy. Just tell me…is everything okay?" She was so nice. Eyes open and curious and cautious and sweet and thoughtful and Gail felt her lips twitching upward in answer.

"Yeah." Her fingers drifted, as they often did now, up into her short hair. Tangled in the ends and tugged a little. "I'm good."

"Good. _Good_," Holly said again, curling her hand around Gail's wrist when she reached for more fries and then staying there because she liked the reassuring feeling of bone and flesh and heart-quickened pulse and Gail let her hand remain because she liked the most likely sub-conscious trailing of fingers over wrist bone and skin and settling on the pulse like this was someone who was looking to make sure she was still there and still breathing and still in one piece. Mostly.

"Holly?" she said into the cosy silence. Holly dipped her head in answer. "I'll talk to you about it later – it's nothing, just stuff. But we can. Later? If you still want to." She bit her lip. It wasn't really 'nothing'. She had drunk herself half full of alcohol and cut off her hair and freaked out a little bit and that was just the tip of the shitty iceberg wasn't it because there were _reasons_ for doing things like that. But it didn't matter.

"Sounds good. Right now I want to hear about Steve."

"Really? On our first date?"

"What? You ditched me for him after our first kiss. He must be a pretty good brother if you're leaving _me_."

"A good brother? No way. Okay, he's not the worst but let me tell you." Gail sat bolt upright and shook Holly free of her hand, grinning. She needed to tell this story. "When I was nine, we got this game and he…" and Holly listened to Gail gush about this brother of hers, who was annoying and selfish sometimes and over protective and way too smart sometimes and always got her in trouble and picked on her and never let her win at games and taught her how to hide her vegetables under the table for the dog to eat and all manner of things that siblings did. And Gail listened as Holly groaned and complained about her science labs, about her group assignments and partners, about the workload, late nights and terrible coffee, about how she had taken Lucy to class the other day and how delighted she was when Lucy asked her about the way leaves are made because Holly knew that, that was science, and how Lucy had drawn her own re-imagining of that because both Gail and Holly knew without a shadow of a doubt that the girl would be an artist and that wasn't a disappointment so much as Holly just wanted someone to talk to about science and bodies. And both of them noticed that the other steered clear of a few topics. Mothers among them, fathers among them, and they were okay with that.

**Short chapter. Very sorry. Much love. Let me know what you thought. Happy reading, readers :)**


	16. Chapter 16

**How The Light Gets In: Chapter Sixteen**

**I don't own Rookie Blue**

**Please enjoy. **

_People are illogical, unreasonable, and self-centred. Love them anyway.__—Kent M Keith._

* * *

After Holly asked her, Gail agonised about it for the whole three days leading up to It. Their first official Date. With date-like activities and date-like attire, unlike the lame first date Gail had taken Holly on.

Needless to say, she was a touch worried. Just a touch. So it was that with only – she looked at her watch – two hours and forty-one minutes oh no make that forty minutes until Holly took her out, Gail was staring at Traci.

Officer Nash, professional to the core, took no note of it. Gail's eyes narrowed, staring more intently, hoping that the woman's neck would prickle with the sense of imminent danger. She was just pretending not to notice so that Gail would actually have to open her mouth and talk to the woman, probably. Gail sat in stubborn silence. She wouldn't. Traci couldn't make her. She drummed her fingers on the desk until a pointed cough and a finger drawn across a gurgling throat from Andy told her in no uncertain terms to _stop that_.

Finally, she broke. Damn Nash. She couldn't win against an experienced and resolute mother. Gail gritted her teeth and set herself into lines of not-a-big-deal-arms splayed on the armrests of her chair and still-not-a-big-deal legs crossed in front of her at the ankle and really-not-a-big-deal lazy neck lolling her head back to stare at the ceiling.

"Traci," she said up to the ignorant roof.

"Yes, Gail?" Traci glanced up from her work – her face was smooth and sweet like a flower but with all the sinister sneaking smarts of a snake lurking beneath that façade, Gail thought, examining that face with darting eyes that returned instantly to the white roof – and smiled.

"What do I wear to the museum?"

"Depends," the woman replied, nonchalant. Gail gritted her teeth. Not. Helpful. "What's the scenario?"

"Two people. Hanging out. As friends."

Traci paused in her writing and looked more closely over at Gail. Gail, she knew, wasn't a nervous looking person. That is, she was nervous on occasion but more often than not she didn't let it show. But the forced ease of her body and the tapping of that errant finger told Traci that Gail needed something, was nervous about something, and she liked the idea that Gail felt she could talk to her. So she put down her pen and turned to face Gail head on, wanting the girl to know that she had her full attention.

"Anything you want, I guess." She watched the way Gail's face twitched from listening to displeasure to scorn.

"Really, Traci? Anything? What if I wanted to wear a onesie? Or a Halloween costume? Or my swimsuit? Would that be appropriate? No." Gail huffed. Traci just laughed.

"Come over here," she said, nodding to the empty space next to her.

"No."

"Gail, come on. Sit with me."

Gail sank further into her chair and set her chin stubbornly. Traci just smiled kindly and eventually the girl rolled her eyes and pushed her wheelie chair next to her mentor.

"What? What do you want?"

"Talk to me. Why are you going to the museum?"

"Cultural purposes, obviously," Gail spat out.

Traci nodded but cast her mind back a few weeks when they had a call out to the museum – someone had set off the alarm. She recalled what Gail had said then when she had waved them goodbye. "I thought you said museums were for nerds?"

"They are." The girl leant back as far as she could in her chair – mostly to avoid eye contact, a little bit to see how far back she could go without toppling over.

"So?"

"I'm checking out the nerd culture."

"Really."

Gail righted her seat slowly, very slowly, tilting her head to the side curiously. Traci sounded far too…_knowing_ for her liking. Why did she—

"McNally." Gail twisted around but Andy had left at some point. She growled. She'd get the woman when she returned. "What has she been saying?" she asked Traci, eyeing the other cops suspiciously. Did they know? How much did they know? Were they all talking about her behind her back – talking about the stupid, weak, useless and now apparently _gay_ Peck?

Traci laid a comforting – or was it restraining? – hand on Gail's arm. It was looked at but not shrugged off so Traci took that as a good sign and maintained her cheeriness and teasing tone.

"Nothing. Nothing. Okay, she might have said that you have a really cute friend and they're nice and they obviously like you. But other than that, nothing."

Gail's mouth scrunched to the right as she thought. "She is," she finally acknowledged. "And she does. I think." The kisses affirmed that. And the fact that she had asked her to go to the museum with her. Right?

_She_. Hmm. Traci blinked. Andy hadn't mentioned a she. But, then again, she hadn't said 'he' either so she probably shouldn't have assumed. "Okay," Traci said. "Is it a date then?" Gail shrugged. "Which museum?"

"Science Centre."

"Nice. There's an exhibit on video games at the moment. Did you know that?" Gail nodded. "I was thinking of taking Leo. Is that what you're going to see?"

"I think so. Can I come?"

"When…I take Leo?" Traci asked. "Aren't you going with your friend?"

"Well yeah, but," Gail shrugged. "Leo is cool and we'd have fun."

Traci swallowed a smile; the budding, and by budding she meant swift and irreversible, friendship between her son and Gail was one of her favourite things in the world. "How about this," she offered. "Save your money and instead, you can hang out with him tomorrow night. I have a date."

"Oh I see what this is," she snarled, voice full of mock outrage. "You are using me. Using me for my superior babysitting skills. For shame, Nash."

"Oh please, I know that you want to play x-box with Leo and eat pizza and teach him bad words." She narrowed her eyes at the suddenly guileless Gail. "Don't play coy with me, kid. I know he started saying ass and bloody hell because of _someone_."

"Two things – one, Leo told me all about his grandma. She has a mean mouth on her." Traci nodded. That was true. "Two, you've got nothing that'll stick, officer. No proof."

"Hmm. So, about the museum," Traci yanked them back to that conversation with a shake of her head. "Maybe something casual but nice? Shoes that are easy to walk in are a must."

Gail nodded.

"Hey guys. What are we up to?" Andy leant over Gail, resting her arms on the girls shoulders. Gail threw her head back hard, slamming her skull into Andy's solar plexus and making her stumble away.

"Mean!" she gasped.

"Hands off, McNally. Your privileges have been revoked."

"Aww." Andy stood, rubbing at her chest. "What did I do?"

Gail spun around in her chair and glared. "You told Traci about Holly," she hissed, crossing her arms.

"Oh. Yeah. I did. Sorry?"

"I hate you."

"I hate you more."

"I hate you most."

"No, not possible, because I hate you the –"

"Now now, children," Traci intervened, scolding them. "Andy, don't you have some paperwork to fill out? And Gail, do you have some photos of outfits or something that I can look at? We can make a decision that way." The two, grumbling, returned to the stations Traci gave to them.

"You're really getting into this superior officer thing, aren't you?" Andy laughed. Traci rolled her eyes. "She's applying for the detective rotation," Andy said, seeing that Gail was out of the loop.

Traci shook her head and Gail grinned. "You really are bad at keeping secrets, aren't you?" Andy shrugged. "Do your work, McNally."

Ignoring Andy, the two bent over Gail's phone, flicking through photos of potential outfits. "Do you like dresses?" she asked. Gail shrugged. "I think stick with something casual. They have an interactive Dance Dance game so you don't want your dress getting in the way." The shock of blonde hair bobbed in agreement. "And maybe sneakers instead of those boots. Ooh, that's cute," Traci said, pointing at a shirt.

After some time, Traci had to say it. "I'm sure that your date will be lovely, Gail, but you look after yourself, okay? If she pressures you or asks you to do something you don't want to do, you do _not_ have to do it. It can be big things or little things. Respect what your body is telling you – if you get a weird feeling about something, if you don't want to do something, listen to your gut. Okay?" Bright red crept up Gail's neck and cheeks, tinging even her ears with embarrassment. She ducked her head to stare at her phone.

Over the other side of the desk, Andy mouthed 'so cute' to her best friend. Then she came to Gail's rescue. "Tone it down there, mamma bear," she laughed, flinging a paper ball at Traci's head. "It's just a date."

"I know, I know. Just, I'm allowed to look out for her," she defended. "She's our intern."

"And the smartest kid around. She can look out for herself."

"Doesn't hurt to have help-"

"She'll be fine. She has to leave the nest, be free, fly with her flock."

"Ground rules are important, Andy."

Gail watched the two argue back and forth before she cleared her throat loudly. "Alright then. I have to go. Andy," she span her chair to face her friend. "You're a nerd. Hate you." Andy grinned and shrugged. "Traci…" she hesitated. "You're a good mom. For Leo."

Those words hadn't made an impact the first time she'd said them, all those weeks ago, but now Traci felt them hit her. Right in the chest. And it made sense. It made sense why Gail had come to her, why she had asked for her help, why she had hung around and listened to her embarrassing if well-meant advice. Gail didn't _have_ anyone to talk to about these things. Andy was more of a friend, or a sister. Oliver was in no way, shape, or form a mother. And Elaine, well…she wouldn't go there.

"Thanks Gail." She smiled at her intern and nudged their shoulders together. "I'm thinking of keeping him in a teeny tiny box with plenty of rules and never letting him out ever. You think that'll work?"

"For sure." Gail nodded.

"Hey," Traci said after Gail had packed up her things. "Everyone deserves to be happy, alright? Even you," she teased. Gail knew with a warm, shifting awareness that this woman, her friend, mentor, whatever she was, meant especially you.

She cleared her throat. "Whatever. My shift finished ages ago so I am outta here," she said, spinning away and making a quick get away. Traci watched her leave with an affectionate smile before returning to her work. She needed this rotation, dammit. She wanted to spend more time with Leo.

* * *

Dressed, clean, and ready to use her sarcasm to deflect most attempts at affection because that was the way she liked to flirt with the paragon of perfection that was Holly, Gail turned up at the museum.

The first words that Holly had for her were "I am so, so sorry." And Gail frowned, hand paused half out reaching for Holly, because she didn't know why Holly was sorry. Were they already breaking up? Was this a prank? Were they even together or was Holly just like oops sorry not interested? Did she implicate Gail in a crime? Had she destroyed something? But no. It was worse than that. Worse than _all_ of that put together.

"Oh my god, Gail, I'm so excited. I've wanted to go to this exhibit for so long and when Holly said that we were going to it I was so excited and Dov has been talking about it for months but we never really got around to making plans to go. Chris is getting drinks now. Chris. Chris!" Chloe said, bouncing on her toes to wave at the boy who nodded and came trudging over with a tray of drinks.

Gail turned slowly to stare at Holly. Betrayal painted her face.

"Before you say anything, I just want to repeat that I am very sorry and I will make this up to you." Gail blinked. Holly started nervously twisting her hands together. "I just wanted to know if Chloe thought it was a good idea. I swear I didn't know that she would take it up as, as an invitation. And I wanted so much for this to be just the two of us because you've been busy studying this week so we didn't really get to just hang out and-"

Gail grabbed Holly's hand, wanting to stop the anxious twisting. Once they touched, though, and Holly relaxed, Gail stared at the connection. Then, slowly, she pulled her hand away. "It's fine."

"It…is?" Holly's hand twitched into empty air but she too pulled away, eyeing the date-intruders.

"Yeah." She smiled, plotting in her head. "I'll figure it out."

They walked together to Gail's friends and within two minutes of being inside the museum, Gail had it figured out. She touched Holly's arm lightly, leaning in. "Watch this."

And Holly did, feeling suddenly like there was a whole side to Gail that had never been properly explored and she felt honoured now in seeing it for herself: Gail, potential criminal mastermind.

She worked her friends over easily, appealing to everything they enjoyed, and used her own stereotypical attitude to get what she wanted. She moved them around in patterns of her own designs – Chris did what she told him to do, Chloe was entranced by flashing colours and pretty pictures, and Dov wanted at all costs to avoid Gail's bad temper. And Holly couldn't find it in herself to be surprised when Gail succeeded in trapping her friends, all of them willing, at a bright, colourful, flashing, interactive game.

Once that was done, Gail grabbed Holly's hand and entwined their fingers and ran.

"Quick," Gail murmured low to Holly, "in here." They ducked into the space exhibit and pressed their backs against the wall, panting.

"We can't go back there," Holly said. "They'll find us."

"And never leave us alone," Gail agreed. "No. You're right. We can't go back."

Holly's expression fell a little. "I'm sorry. I wanted us to have fun and I thought you'd really enjoy it."

"I'll enjoy it more when we aren't accompanied by the Three Stooges. Besides, I always have fun with you." Gail pushed off the wall and didn't see the happy smile that crossed Holly's face, bright and earnest. She saw a remnant of it though when she turned around and offered her hand again, which Holly happily took. "You know we can come back another time," she continued as they meandered through the museum. "So it's not that big a deal. But I think we both know that you learnt something today and that, Holly, is never. Ever. _Ever_ tell Chloe anything. Ever." She walked on a few paces. Then added, "_Ever_."

Holly nodded. "I think I got that." And then, she stopped still. "Oh."

Gail spun around, worried that something had happened. "What? What's wrong?"

"No, nothing. I just totally forgot to tell you because of all that," she waved her hand behind her to indicate the date crashers, "and because I momentarily lost my breath. You look beautiful."

"Wow. Nerd. Nerdy wooing." Gail shook her head at Holly and rolled her eyes but she looked pleased by the compliment. "Do I have more nerdy stuff to look forward to?" she asked.

"Hmm." Holly thought about it for a moment. "Definitely. Because when you're happy you shine brighter than Sirius." She stepped forward, closer and closer to Gail. "Sirius is the brightest star visible," she explained, leaning back a little so that she could see Gail's expression.

"I _know_ that," Gail grumbled. "Now get back here, I thought we were going to kiss."

"Alright, grumpy. Alright." Holly smiled fondly and pressed her lips sweetly to Gail's. When she opened her eyes, stepping away finally, Gail's eyes were still closed and her lips upturned in a small smile.

Feeling Holly's eyes on her, Gail shook the smile off her face and pouted instead. "Done already? Lame." She nudged Holly and set off into the next exhibit. "Come on, let's check out some geography."

"I wouldn't mind if we were strata," Holly joked, "you could be a line on top of me anytime."

Gail took a moment before groaning loudly at that. "So bad," she lamented as they disappeared into the next exhibit.

"Did you just shove me?"

"Pretty obvious that I did, nerd. Want me to show you again?"

"Gail!" Hushed then, a furtive, "I almost hit the meteorite."

"That's a space rock."

"Meteorite."

"Space rock – _oh you did not just push me!_ You're going to pay for that, Stewart!"

* * *

She liked the feeling that being close to Holly gave her. Like…she could say anything and it would be totally fine. Because hugging Holly was like getting to touch the most amazing person in the world and the fact that she was letting her close was mindboggling and amazing and a total privilege and, try as she might, Gail couldn't stop waiting for the other shoe to drop.

In the week following their museum date, Gail spent seven out of seven days with Holly. She did her work sitting in the bookstore and she continued her lessons with Lucy – she could now talk faultlessly about a myriad of eight year old problems and swear like a third grader – and she'd kissed Holly a grand total of twenty times. Not that she was counting, that would be weird. And nerdy. As would grinning like an idiot up at her ceiling late at night when she thought about Holly teasing her and her having to dodge a book that was lobbed at her when she told Holly that she looked like a chipmunk eating her food and then worried that she'd been hit, Holly had come to check on her and she'd pulled the other girl down and made her sit with her and shyly kissed her… Yeah. Thinking about that would be totally nerdy and she definitely didn't do it.

Saturday evenings were her favourite. She'd always finished her schoolwork by that time, she'd spent a relaxing few hours after working at the station with Holly at Duke's, and then she went home with Holly to hang out with Lucy. They were the best. So when Holly snapped at her, Gail wasn't ready for it.

_Pass the purple please_, Lucy asked of Gail. Gail looked away from the TV to watch her hands and passed her the whole box of crayons next to her. _Thank you._ Gail sighed. All her hard work corrupting the child and she was still sweet as anything. Must be genetic. She'd just have to try harder. Her gaze returned to the screen, where a version of the news had a little man signing in a circle at the bottom of the screen. Her hands hesitantly followed his gestures.

"And in other news," the anchor said in his melodious voice, words writ out with the little man's body, "a string of robberies have been reported along," Gail paused. Rewound. Her eyes narrowed as she watched. "And in other news, a string of robberies-" She paused it again and tried the gestures but they didn't look right. She rewound. "And in other news, a string of robberies-"

"_Gail!_" Holly growled from the table. "Stop it. I'm trying to study." Gail paused the television instantly and froze. Lucy didn't notice, didn't look up. If she had, she would have seen a stricken expression crossing her friend's face. "Seriously. That's so annoying."

Gail gulped. That was it. The moment that Holly got sick of her.

She sat very still for a few minutes as Holly grumbled down into her papers. Then, trying not to disturb Holly, she stood and packed up her things. Lucy looked up then, confused, because it was only six and Gail usually stayed at least until seven.

_What are you doing?_ she asked.

_Shh_, Gail replied, with a nervous look over at Holly. _Holly is working and I'm being loud – it's probably good if I just go. Have fun_.

_Why?_ Lucy asked. _Don't go!_

_Sorry kid, I don't want to annoy Holly. See you around_.

Ten minutes later when Holly looked up next and saw that both Gail and Lucy were missing from the living room floor, she thought nothing of it. Most likely, they had just gone up to Lucy's room to play. Worst case scenario she could think of was that they'd moved into the kitchen but she didn't worry too much about that – her mother was home and would stop them from playing with anything too dangerous.

An hour after that and Holly was furious and anxious and on the brink of tearing out her hair because this assignment was not turning out the way she wanted it to, dammit, and she wanted Gail. Self-proclaimed badass Gail might be, she was an amazing hugger and Holly would swear up and down that her hugs and kisses had restorative powers. Every time she took her in her arms – usually with a scoff or a scowl and muttering about how 'needy' Holly was or how she was only doing it because she was cold – Holly never wanted to leave and all the tension evaporated, making her feel like a real person all over again instead of a tight, tightening ball of stress.

But when Holly scoured the house and found no Gail, just Lucy alone in her room, her heart started beating faster and sweat prickled in her palms.

She threw open the door to Lucy's room, who looked up to glare at her sister, and looked around again, hoping that she had just missed Gail and she was hiding in the closet or something. No pun intended.

_Where is Gail_? she asked Lucy. But her sister huffed and turned around so that she couldn't see Holly's hands and bent over her colouring book. _Lucy._ Holly moved around so that Lucy was facing her again and waved. _Where is Gail?_

Lucy just kept turning so that she couldn't see Holly's hands and when Holly advanced on her, she sprinted from the room. Holly tore down the hallway after her.

"Come back here!" she shouted, even though Lucy couldn't hear. She could definitely see Holly's mouth moving and her eyes flashing when she stopped at the end of the hall – seeing that, Lucy set off into a run again, scrambling to go faster. When she felt Holly gaining on her, she started screaming wordlessly, and ducked away from Holly's hands. "Come back here – Lucy! – goddammit Lucy tell me – I'm going to _kill_ you." Meanwhile, Lucy was shrieking, a shrill, mildly terrifying sound, and it was no surprise that their mother stepped out of her room with a face like thunder.

"_What is going on here?_" she asked, hands flashing in harsh movements, voice stern. Each of her daughters froze where they were and gulped. Anne looked tired and worn and Holly looked down at her feet because she knew that her mother was working ridiculously long hours and all she wanted now and again was some peace and quiet. Lucy, next to her, was shuffling her feet and gripping at the front of her dress looking like she was about to cry. _Lucy_, her mother said,_ go to your room. No dessert tonight. _The girl ran off at that brief chastisement and left Holly and Anne alone in the hall.

"I was sleeping," Anne rebuked her gently.

"I know. I'm sorry."

"Hmm." Anne rubbed at her eyes and leant heavily on the wall. "You don't get dessert either," she said and Holly smiled, relieved that her mother wasn't too angry. "What on earth were you two doing?"

"I was trying to strangle her," Holly said. Her mother rebuked her with only her eyes – a mother's talent. "She won't tell me where Gail went."

All Anne could do then was roll her eyes at her eldest daughter because she knew perfectly well when and where Gail had gone. She knew, of course, because she had been coming into the house when Gail had been very stealthily creeping out. One step into the kitchen, she had turned around again to place her keys into the bowl in the hallway and come face-to-face with the girl, who blinked and then smiled sheepishly.

"Good evening, ma'am," Gail had said.

"Good evening, Gail. Where are you going? And aren't you staying for dinner?"

Gail had shrugged one shoulder and nervously checked over her shoulder to make sure Holly was still working, that she hadn't been disturbed. "No thank you, ma'am. I should really be going home." She had ducked her head in a nod and started cautiously making her way towards the door, not wanting to be rude but also wanting to leave immediately.

Anne accepted that, even knowing that Gail hated to leave. One night, Gail had stayed as late as ten she hadn't wanted to leave. But Anne accepted it because she knew how her daughter could get when she was stressed and on edge . "Holly yelled at you?" she'd guessed.

Gail hunched her shoulder, swept her hand through short hair. "I was being annoying," she admitted, grinning easily.

"Don't take it to heart," Anne advised, dropping the keys into the fruit bowl. "Holly always works herself up about her assignments. Whatever she said, she probably didn't mean it."

Gail nodded. It was the 'probably' that bothered her though. She probably didn't mean it…but she might.

Anne watched Holly's face fall as she told her daughter all of that – and as much as she wanted the two of them to be happy and sickeningly sweet, she had rules that had to be enforced. So when Holly pulled out her phone to call Gail and right her wrongs, Anne held out her hand.

"But Mom-"

"No buts, Holly. Phone. Now." Anne pushed her hand out a little further; her face fell into no-nonsense, don't mess with me lines. "Now, Holly."

She dropped the device into her mother's hand. "I need to talk to her. Please. What if she really thinks that I don't like her? I don't know if she took me seriously or if she was just giving me space – mom. She can be really sensitive about that stuff and I know it doesn't seem like that because yeah, she's a bit of a grouch, but she is. And I don't want her to think that I suddenly hate her or something. Please. Let me talk to her?"

Anne deliberated. "One text. But then I'm keeping it." She handed the phone back and watched her daughter closely. "Taking a long time there."

"I'm still texting. Give me a second!" Holly scowled.

"Temper. You want to get that back in the morning, don't you?"

A pause. And then, grumbled, "Yes mom."

"Okay. Finish up." Holly sent off the message and then, reluctant again, dropped her phone into her mothers waiting hand. "Now go and apologise to your sister and wash up for dinner."

When the reply to her message came, Holly heard it beeping in her mother's pocket. "No," Anne said without blinking. She lifted her fork to her mouth. Holly pouted. "No, Holly."

_What's going on?_

_Mom won't let me talk to Gail_, Holly signed for her sister's benefit, who had missed part of the conversation while she was eating.

_Good._ Lucy poked out her tongue. _You'll just be mean again_.

_I'm not mean!_

_Are too. I'd be a better girl friend than you_.

Holly poked her tongue out at her sister then and withdrew from the conversation. Anne was too tired to intervene, and too tired to continue chastising Holly when her daughter's eyes lingered near constantly on her pocket where the phone was. As distraction, Holly threw herself back into her study.

* * *

"Holly?" Anne broke into her daughter's studying late that night, a few hours after dinner, Holly's phone in her hand. "It's Gail."

"Gail?" Holly dove out of her chair and was standing in front of her mother before she could take a breath. She wavered between reaching for the phone and not. Unsure. "I…" She swallowed. _You'll just be mean to her_, Lucy had said. What if she was right? What if she _was_ mean to Gail again? She swallowed again because the act was doing nothing to tamp down her fear or nerves but she kept hoping that it would help.

"It's okay," Anne soothed her. "Just talk to her."

"But what if I hurt her?"

"Then you'll fix it. You're allowed to have off days too, darling." Anne brushed her hand gently from Holly's forehead to the back of her head, pulling her into a brief hug. Holly closed her eyes and let her forehead rest on her mother's shoulder for a second. "Now." Anne pushed her back. "Talk to her."

She held out the phone. When Holly reached for it, Anne hesitated. Though Holly scowled, thinking she was teasing, Anne still hesitated. "I give this back to you," she said, "and you stop terrorizing your sister. Please?"

"Uh-huh." Holly's eyes locked onto the phone. She would have agreed to just about anything in that moment.

"And please, don't wake me up before ten tomorrow." That Holly _did_ hear. She nodded more firmly to that request. That was something she could do. That was something she knew her mother _needed_.

"Yes mom."

"Okay. Be good. Please. And tell Gail it was nice to see her again today." She handed Holly her phone back and tried not to laugh at the expressions on her face – eager, delighted, nervous, a little sick, hopeful, back to nervous. "Sleep well, sweetie."

"You too!"

Holly lay down on her bed, slotting her pillow under her chin, and stared at the phone before bringing it up to her ear. "Gail?"

"I'm here," she answered. Holly closed her eyes: she loved that voice, but she didn't like the cautious way Gail offered it up, as though she wasn't quite sure that she should be talking.

"I shouldn't have snapped at you."

"It's fine."

"It isn't."

"It _is_, Hol. I'm a big girl. I can deal with it when I've been annoying."

Holly made an exasperated sound – annoyed with herself. "You weren't annoying. I was just"

"Frazzled? Stressed? Nervous anxious worried busy?"

"All of the above."

"I know." Gail blinked up at her ceiling. She hesitated before sharing what she had been thinking. "And, okay, maybe I was nervous for like ten minutes that you didn't like me but then I remembered that I am awesome and you have three assignments due so of course you're going to be a bit over everything."

"I'm not over you."

Gail drew in a sharp breath. She wanted Holly to say it again. And then again. Because, to be perfectly frank, she had been worried for a lot longer than ten minutes. Try every moment since she had left Holly's house. She would probably always be worried that Holly was sick of her, that she was just too nice to say it outright to her face. But she _had_ remembered that Holly was busy and she _had_ come to the conclusion that maybe Holly just needed to relax a little and not be so bombarded with outside annoyances.

There was that word again. Gail closed her eyes tight for a split second, forcing it away.

It had taken about an hour or so out on the running track before Gail had come to those conclusions. She ran until she forgot everything except go go go left right left right go go go. And then she ran a little more and then when she stopped and just breathed, then she had understood. Everything was okay. Holly probably didn't hate her. Most of the understanding had been helped along by Holly's mildly frantic message; the rest of it had come from the realisation that not everything was about her. Holly had other things in her life, problems other than Gail – there was that _idea_ again, she closed her eyes against it, shoved it away, she was _not a problem _dammit – and just because she was angry or annoyed it didn't mean that Gail was the root of it all, or that Holly was suddenly going to burn her out of her life.

But Holly didn't need to hear any of that. What she needed to hear was that Gail was okay – because she liked Gail. Go figure. That still perplexed her in the most wonderful way. She needed to hear that Gail was still right there with her, that Gail didn't hate her. She didn't think that she could.

"Good," Gail said. _I'm not over you_. She wondered if souls could be tattooed because if so, that was what she wanted forever. _I'm not over you_. She smiled. "Because I'm kinda fond of you, nerd."

"Yeah?"

"Yep."

Holly huffed a laugh. Trust Gail to be so casually sweet. "How's everything then? I should have asked you this afternoon but,"

"Oh shut it. You had more important things to think about." Gail paused. "Speaking of, _have_ you finished your assignments?"

"Well…no."

"Nuh uh. No gossip for you then. I'm hanging up."

"Gail," Holly whined. "I want to talk to my girlfriend for ten minutes, that's all. Then I'll go back to studying, I promise. But come on. Just a little break?" Gail's answer was a small choking sound. "Gail?"

"Girlfriend, huh?"

"Oh." Holly bit her lip. "Well, I…" She hadn't meant to say that. It had kind of just slipped out and it might be a little fast, maybe it would scare Gail off, they hadn't even talked about that. But she didn't regret it. She _did_ want to date Gail. So she laughed, delighted by the idea, and nodded. "If you'll have me."

"Eh. Sure," Gail said. It was lacking a bit of the casual tone she was aiming for due to the fact that it came out breathless and adoring. "I mean, whatever."

"Gail." Holly was stern. Be nice, that tone said.

"Fine. Holly Stewart, nerd extraordinaire, I'd be honoured."

"I can't tell if you're being serious or not," Holly complained. She flipped over onto her back and crossed her legs at the ankles, snuggling down into her pillows.

"What was that?"

"What was what?"

"That sound," Gail said. "What was it?"

"Umm…" Holly thought back, frowning. "My bed? I moved."

"Hmm." Gail's brain went on the fritz for a moment, thinking about Holly in what she had been wearing that first morning when she had woken up to lovely eyes and lovely kisses.

"Gail? Gail?" Holly's voice broke into her thoughts. "You still there?"

"Yes." She grinned. "What are you wearing?"

Her tone left Holly in no doubt as to what Gail was suggesting. She laughed. "We do not have time for that."

"Spoil sport. But eventually?" She had hormones. Teenage hormones. _Rampant_ teenage hormones, she wanted to remind Holly. Who, also having rampant teenage hormones, was no doubt well aware of them. But also, her girlfriend was utterly gorgeous.

"Well thank you," Holly said, pleased. When Gail swore under her breath, Holly laughed again. That was a reason she loved spending time with Gail. She could make her laugh so easily – and that was a mean feat because Holly, though not _overly_ serious, was rather more withdrawn than she was around Gail. "Did you not mean to compliment me?"

"Well I don't want you getting a big head. It'd throw your proportions way off."

"Does that mean I can't compliment you?"

"Nah," Gail said, grinning. "I've got room to grow. Compliment away."

"If you're sure," Holly capitulated mildly. "You have a nice face."

After a moment, Gail sighed. "Really, Holly? That's it? You have a nice face?" she repeated, teasing.

"What do you want me to say?"

"Oh I don't know." Gail thought about what she would say. "Like, sometimes I forget to breathe around you because your face is ridiculously perfect." Holly held her breath, the thoughtful, honest tone Gail was using surprising her. "Sometimes my heart starts beating really fast and my hands are itchy not because I'm nervous but because they know that they should be holding yours. And your lips are just amazing. I think about kissing you all the time, which makes total sense because your lips are so soft and you always taste nice. And your hair is so nice and soft now that it's short."

Holly blinked. Short? Her hair was long.

"And your eyes are so lovely and blue and shining prettily in the sunlight."

Holly frowned and then rolled her eyes.

"_Those_ are the things you should be saying to me," Gail managed to say between cackling madly. Holly sighed.

"You are such an ass."

"You know it."

They sat for a few moments smiling into their phones. Finally, Holly sighed. "I have to go." Gail made an agreeing, agreeable sound. "I really am sorry, you know. For snapping at you."

"Forgotten," Gail said instantly, only lying a little.

Still they stayed there, neither hanging up, just listening to the other shift and sigh.

"Assignments are calling your name, nerd," Gail whispered. "And it's late. And I have work in the morning."

"Yeah."

"Holly?" Gail asked, tentative.

"Yeah, Gail?"

"Can I come over after work tomorrow?" She squeezed her eyes shut tightly, crossing her fingers hopefully. "I promise I'll be quiet and Lucy and I will sit in her room and I won't bother you at all," she blurted out, needing to fill the silence between her question and Holly's answer.

"Gail, Gail. _Gail_. Yes. Of course. I want you to come over." She wished that she was actually with Gail – curse phones, tricking her into hearing Gail's voice and thinking she was right there next to her close enough to touch, making her heart beat faster and her hands itch just as Gail had described earlier – so that she could kiss her goodnight. "And it might be time for me to take a break from study anyway. Lucy needs to take cupcakes to her class party on Monday," she said. "We can bake?"

"Wrong. _You_ can bake. I can eat. Goodnight, nerd. See you tomorrow."

**I hope you enjoyed it. I decided to cut this chapter in half because the second part is proving difficult and this was long enough to give to you guys. Let me know what you thought? I wasn't super happy with it but you are all lovely and deserved a new chapter. Happy reading, readers :)**


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